


Hall of Fame

by WinterSnow10



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Blood of the Covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, Chronic Illness, Dark, Dodgy dealings, Domestic Violence, Established Relationship, Exams, Football Teams, Friendship, Friendship is Magic, Gen, Getting Together, Headaches & Migraines, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Humor, I do not condone this, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Partying, Revenge, School Dances, Strong Language, Students, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teachers, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2018-12-23 08:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 54,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSnow10/pseuds/WinterSnow10
Summary: Life in school is never easy, life in general is never easy. But for one class in St. Christopher's Vocational school, everything is blown out if proportions. They have teachers who hate them, one student is in love with a teacher and they are all trying to juggle school work and a vengeful homophobic idiot who hates them all. This is the story of friendship, love and lives lost throughout school. And we've all been there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eafay70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/gifts), [mariothellama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariothellama/gifts).



> I just want to clear up of a few things:  
> Since I don't know about any other school systems, I'm basing this off of Ireland. 
> 
> 17 is the age of consent, however the student teacher relationship is considered illegal even if both parties are consenting.
> 
> The drinking age is 18 so that's illegal. 
> 
> Finally, this is all a work of fiction and isn't real.

August 29th: the worst day of the year, every single year. Marco walked with three bags on him – one on his back, and one on each arm. He was walking back to school, humming quietly, a randomised song playing in his ears. He grinned slightly when he saw the guys waiting at the metal gate that held the sign for St. Christopher's Vocational. Eric, Marc and Jack were all standing around; none of them had stepped over the threshold of the school yet.

 

“For fuck’s sake, Marco, do you have enough books with you?”, Jack asked, his brown eyes shining brightly in the morning sun.

 

“My stupid mother. ‘It’s better to bring them all in and set everything up’, she said. ‘Have a good day and enjoy it', she said. How could you enjoy a place like this?”, Marco growled as Eric took a bag off of him.

 

“It can’t be that bad, we’re going to be fine”, Eric pointed out, a rough crack in his voice.

 

“Say that for yourself. I hate this place, nothing good has happened here”, Marco muttered as he fixed the red tie around his neck.

 

“Why are you four just standing here? The others are inside”, Aaron announced before he wrapped an arm around Jack.

 

“Okay, it’s not even half eight in the morning, keep that shit until after break, please”, Eric groaned.

 

The group of five moved to the library. They were 5th years and would be working towards one goal for the next two years: the Leaving Cert. That was the exam that would get them into college, and for some of them it was the only thing that mattered. The green-walled room with forest green carpets smelled damp, like the rest of the school. Chairs were lined up in rows of ten; loud noises were coming from the students who sat in the plastic. Then Marco's speckled eyes fell to the group sitting in the top corner: Bernd, Antoine, Toni and Granit were sitting there, smiling as they noticed Marco.

 

Last year had been tough for the blonde. His migraines had gotten worse, so he was barely in school – in a day and out for a week. Then, after a brief stay in hospital, they finally found the right medication, but the attacks still occurred.

 

Marco had just sat down in the grey plastic chair when the principal, Mr. Klopp, walked into the library.

 

“If Mr. Reus is here, could he come with me for a moment?”. Most eyes fell to Marco.

 

The blonde sighed as he walked down to the principal, who then followed him out of the double doors. Marco stopped, leaned against a green wall and stared at the older man.

 

“You're not in trouble, Mr. Reus. I just wanted to let you know, all of the faculty are delighted to have you back. Now, we understand that there is a certain medication that you must take, but since drugs are banned on school grounds, they’ll be in the office. If you feel as though you're struggling, come to myself, Mr. Neuer or Mr. Vardy – he’s going to be your year head this year. How do you feel about being back?”, Mr. Klopp wondered, a fatherly smile blessing his face.

 

“I’m fine, sir. Thank you, everybody here has helped so much over the last year”, Marco replied. He felt the knot in his stomach tighten and the coffee he’d had for breakfast curl in this throat.

 

“I’ll leave you to it, then; the door is always open”. With that, the principal walked away, his tracksuit bottoms and jacket warming him in the icebox school.

 

As Marco turned, the bell rang through the intercom. He took a deep breath before he walked back up to where the others were. Jack was mumbling on his phone, probably to his overprotective mother. Aaron was looking at his nails, the perfect ‘I don’t give a fuck' attitude on his handsome features. Eric was sitting beside Marco's books and bag; Marco could see the anxiety that was wrecking his body.

 

“We’ll be fine. Mr. Vardy is our year head”, Marco whispered, smiling at the slightly younger man.

 

“Better than Mr. Walsh”.

 

The room decided into silence as Mr. Klopp, Mr. Vardy and Mr. Alonso walked up to the three desks that were lined together. Each of them held a box, more than likely full of the journals that the students would need for the year.

 

“I’m delighted to welcome all of you back; I hope you all had a brilliant summer. Before we begin, I'd like to start by congratulating you all – this is the beginning of a new chapter in your lives. Now, when Mr. Alonso calls your name, please come up to the desk. You will be given your class, journal, timetable and locker number. I wish all of you the best of luck in the future”, Mr. Klopp announced.

 

A light wave of chatter ran over the room before Mr. Alonso called the first few names; Marco knew a few of them, but not well enough for them to be considered a loss. An age passed. Jack was snoozing slightly, eyes half-lidded. Aaron was tucked under his jacket, bored out of his mind. Eric was sitting there, blank as a fresh wall. Marco was playing Angry Birds on his phone. Antoine and Granit were muttering to each other. Toni, Marc and Bernd looked as though they wanted to be anywhere but there. Finally, Class 5C was called out.

 

“Henderson, Lallana, Xhaka, Kane, Shaw, Reus, Dier, Griezmann, Vertonghen, Mertens, Can, Kroos, Butland, Hart, Alli, Icardi, Dybala, Wilshere, ter Stegen, Lukaku, Coutinho, Ramsey, De Bruyne, Leno, Smith, Torres and finally Götze. You twenty-seven are class 5C. Come up to collect your timetable and locker numbers. Then you can go to your lockers", Mr. Alonso announced.

 

Marco couldn’t believe it. The people he was in class with already knew each other, through sport, clubs or just being in their class in primary school. It made the knot in his stomach deflate a bit. The chairs moved against the green carpet as people grabbed their bags and moved to their locker numbers. Marco sighed in relief; he had a top locker, and Paulo was beneath him. Jack and Aaron were on either side of him, Grizi was beneath him to the left and Mauro was beneath to his right.

 

“I swear, if you two start necking in the middle of the corridor, I will hit both of you”, Marco shook his head.

 

“Please, we have a bit more tact than those two”, Mauro rolled his eyes before he shoved in colour-coordinated hardbacks.

 

Marco looked at the timetable he was sellotaping to the metal door. It was fine. Apart from English, Maths and PE, his four chosen electives were Biology, French, History and Geography. Then he had a double Religion on a Tuesday with Mr. McLean.

 

“Please tell me some of you have a double Religion?”, Marco wondered.

 

“I do", Jack muttered. The others shook their heads.

 

Marco went back to filling in books and hardbacks, manuscripts and folders. Somehow, he managed to get everything to fit, but there would be no room for anything else. He looked down the corridor: Joe and Jack were sitting beside each other, while Antoine was kneeling down. All of the class was in the little square of lockers. The corridors were painted with a green wash and the floors were a green tile, though half of the wall was white. The group shook their heads and went back to arranging themselves.

 

“Do you think he’s okay?”, Harry asked. He was staring at Luke, a frown on his lips.

 

“I don’t know, Harry. Go and talk to him”, Eric shrugged before he took out his lunch.

 

They weren’t in school for the whole day, only to get everything sorted, classes decided into higher and ordinary level. They’d be out at twelve thirty-five, but then tomorrow they’d be back to school full time: more slugging books, studying and dealing with bullshite than the summer had.

 

“But what if he flings a book at me like he did this morning?”, Harry whined.

 

“Go over and see, and if you see him reaching for a book, take his hand and apologise. You're at fault here, you cancelled on your anniversary”, Marco pointed out as he leaned against the locker face.

 

“I was sick, I didn’t want him to get sick", Harry defended.

 

“Just go over and shift him – it’s Luke, he’ll forgive you in a minute”. Jordan shrugged from beside them, still trying to organise his locker.

 

“If he throws a book at me, you owe me lunch for a week, Marco”, Harry frowned before he walked to the taller teenager.

 

Jordan, Marco and Eric leaned back. The other two were whispering furiously, then Harry laced their fingers together and Luke melted.

 

“If only you could be like that”, Jordan grinned before he raked his nails through his messy hair.

 

“Fuck you”, Adam grinned.

 

After a ten-minute lunch break, all of them headed back to the library. All of the teachers were in there; it was time to decide up the classes.

 

“If I get Mr. Grey for maths, I'm going to cry”, Marco whispered.

 

He'd had that man last year. Mr. Grey hated Marco’s guts and anybody that was close to Marco or Paulo or Luke or Eric. He hated them. Wherever he could take away points, he would.

 

“Okay, so it’s my class up first”, Mr. Brady announced.

 

Marco's heart sank; he loved that teacher. Jordan and Harry, along with Jan, Dries and Phil were off, meaning it was the higher level class.

 

“Would the following students go to room 36 for maths...”, Mr. Long began to read off the list.

 

Granit, Mauro, Joe, Emre, Mario and Toni were on the list. Marco could feel Eric and Luke shake on either side of him. He wasn’t fairing much better.

 

“This is my class”, Mr. Grey spat.

 

The first name called was Marco’s, then Paul's. Luke stilled when he heard his named called out, the disdain evident in the teacher’s voice. When poor James got back from holiday, he’d cry. Then came Adam and Jordan. Both Jacks cursed when their names were called out. More names filled the list, and Eric thought he was safe – until the last name was called.

 

“Eric Dier".

 

Eric dropped his head between his legs as his anxiety went through the roof. His heart was lumping deeply in his chest; the thump-thump almost hurt.

 

For the people in Mr. Grey’s class, the rest of the separation passed in a haze. All Marco knew was he had Mr. Vardy for Chemistry, Mr. Lewandowski for Biology and Mr. Lloris for French. He also had Mr. Bale for History, but Mr. Lewandowski would be there to assist the class when he was free because of the heavy workload. He had Mr. Long for Geography and Mr. Hummels for English. The other subjects were attended by the whole of 5C: for Careers he had Mr. Müller, for Guidance he had Mr. Löw and for PE he had Mr. Hazard.

 

“I hate this year already”, Marco whispered and Eric nodded, his throat bobbing.

 

“We’re in this together, mate, but we’re all fucked”, Luke growled.

 

“But we can fuck with him more”, Jack muttered, a mischievous smirk on his face.

 

“Can we?”, the other Jack smirked, but Joe shot him a look.

 

Marco shook his head and sunk back into the seat before he placed a hand on Eric's thigh. He knew it wasn’t enough to calm he older boy, but it promised him that he wasn't going anywhere. Marco would just have to go home and regroup with the others. Each of them would be a crutch for the other to stand on when they needed to. They were close as friends could get; now they just had to get through the next two years, or more importantly, this year alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The alarm rang through his room, but Marco was already awake. He'd woken up with a dart of pain in the side of his head at around six. It was starting to get bright outside. Marco thumped his head into the pillow – why did it have to be him? Why did he have to experience so much fucking pain and get nothing out of it? Marco turned off the alarm on his phone and got started about his day.

 

...

 

Eric had to groan, his arm stretched over to turn off the stupid alarm that was ringing. His mother was banging on his door, and he heard his little brother screaming downstairs. As quick as he could with limbs that were still graced with sleep, the blonde-haired boy pulled on the uniform: a black jumper, a red tie, black pants and a white shirt. Eric tied his runners onto his feet – the only saving grace to the uniform. He trudged down to the kitchen and grabbed his wallet.

 

“Hey mam, I’m going over to Granit tonight”, Eric called as he placed the bottle of water in his bag.

 

“What? No, you can’t. Not tonight. You’re watching your brother so your dad and I can go out, you promised”. His mother’s tone was implying something, but Eric couldn’t pick up on it.

 

“Whatever. It’s doesn’t matter”, Eric sighed before he headed out the door, ignoring his mother’s calls for him to come back.

 

It was about a twenty minute walk from Eric’s house to the school, and along the way he usually met up with Marco. Today, the other teenager had his head buried in his hands and red puffy eyes. He was sitting on one of the benches that lined the street, a black bin like a fly trap beside it under the baking sun of late August.

 

“What’s wrong?”, Eric asked as he slipped into the seat.

 

“My head is fucking killing me, that's what, and I can’t tell my mam because she’ll think one of two things: Either I’m lying about it so I don’t have to go to school, or the medication doesn't work and then we're back to square one”. Marco peeked out from this hands.

 

“Shit, I don’t know what to do, Mar. I feel fucking useless – I hate seeing you like this, we all do. Why is it you that has to suffer? It should Mr. Grey. He should have to know what it’s like to be fighting a constant battle with your own body and coming out the loser”, Eric growled.

 

“I know he should, ’Ric, but the world is unfuckingfair; the cockroaches will outlive us all. What’s the timetable today?”, Marco wondered.

 

“English, French, Geography, then break. Double biology and then Chemistry and lunch. Last three are history, maths and religion. Are you sure you don’t want to go home? You look like shit”, Eric answered before they walked into the shop.

 

Marco mumbled an answer as the two of them headed to the coffee machine beside the till. Large coffee with two sugars for Eric, and the same for Marco. Today, it was Eric’s turn to buy them; he handed over the pristine note, and they were on their way. They continued to walk to the school, both sipping in the white plastic lid as the sun peeked out from behind the white clouds.

 

“I really don’t want to go in there”, Eric sighed, staring at the looming building.

 

“We get to laugh at Jamie and his Red Bull obsession, the day's going to be worth it. Plus, I’m sure Mr. McClean isn’t going to make us do anything”. Marco tried to calm his friend's nerves, but he knew that Eric wasn’t that easy.

 

“You realise he’s going to make our lives terrible – why did he have to get the ordinary class? Why couldn’t we have Brady back? He hates the four of us that are in the class, the two of us of the most”, Eric whined as they started walking again.

 

Marco made a noncommittal noise as they walked through the double doors. The corridors smelled like bleach, which didn’t help the burning pulsation in his temples. He swallowed down the sigh that nearly breached his closed lips as he turned the corridor. Of course these two were the last to arrive, they always were, but there was still minuets before class starts.

 

Paulo was sitting on the floor, books resting in front of him and all around him.

 

“Why can’t I just go home? I don’t want to go to English, were going to be learning some stupid play”, the shorter man whined, his lips sticking out in an adorable pout.

 

“It’s Mr. Hummels, it’s grand”, Aaron shrugged, black hardback and manuscript in hand.

 

“Not for me it’s not. It’s bloody Ms. Shayne – I dropped down before the exams last year”, Paulo sighed.

 

Ms. Shayne was known around the school for being a useless old hag; she spoke to them with a soft voice barely above a whisper, and would get angry if she was asked to repeat the question. Paulo sure was down on his luck in that one.

 

“I had her in first year, she’s as useless as they say she is”, Jack replied, handing Aaron his books to hold.

 

“Do I look like your mum?”, Aaron rolled his eyes.

 

“Of course not. I don’t want to shag my mum, do I?”, Jack stuck out his tongue.

 

“With you, I wouldn’t be too sure”, Toni laughed as he joined the group.

 

“Says the man who fucks anything that moves”, Jack singsonged.

 

“I think you’re confusing us, mate – Hammie and I are still going strong”, Toni smirked.

 

“Where is our little dream catcher?”, Mauro wondered.

 

“I don’t know. He said he was coming in today; they only got back from Madrid yesterday morning", Toni shrugged.

 

“I’m here, my darlings. Toni, come help”, James was grinning from ear to ear, a infectious smile.

 

“How was Madrid?”, Jack wondered as he began shovelling books into his bag.

 

“Enjoyable for the most part, but I missed all of you. They gave me my timetable and told me the classes. How're you all ready to deal with Grey?”. Now, it wasn’t a lot of the time that James spat out a name, but when he did, the coldness in his voice could bring winter.

 

“Make him feel uncomfortable. We'll neck in front of him”, Adam shrugged.

 

“I will fucking not. Weirdo would probably get off on that”, Jordan shivered.

 

“Why must all of you be so disgusting? Go read the bible”. A loud, obnoxious voice came from the left: Paul.

 

“Seriously? That’s the best you can come up with? Read the bloody bible? You’re having a laugh”, Aaron snorted.

 

“No, you should respect the word of God. He created Adam and-", Joe stopped him with a grunt.

 

“If you say Adam and fucking Eve and not Adam and Steve, I’ll break your fucking leg, understand?”. Joe had a useless temper when it came to these idiots.

 

The group, once they had all of their bags packed and ready to go, walked down to the lunch hall where they went before school, during break and lunch. They were standing around the chairs and tables until the bell rang, then they separated into their groups to go to the four different classrooms of English. Granit, Marco, Eric, Toni, Luke, Mauro and Adam all walked down to the newer part of the building.

 

Mr. Hummels was already sitting behind the desk, the board filled with perfectly straight writing; it told them the grading system, the play they would need and the poems they would learn. Once everybody was seated and the bell went for a second time, the morning prayer began. After Mr. Vardy completed that, Mr. Hummels stood up.

 

“I know I’ve had some of you before, but others are new. Anything that has been done in the past is over. All of you have clean slates. I’m not going to ask much of you all, just that you pay attention, you work and you produce the required work on time. Now, if you wouldn’t mind taking that down on the front page of your hardback…”, Mr. Hummels spoke loudly and clearly, making direct eye contact with nearly everybody in the room.

 

“They play’s good”, Eric said weakly.

 

The play that they would be studying was Macbeth. There was light whispered echoing in Marco’s head as he wrote. The writing on the board was dancing at him; it didn’t look right at all. Still, Marco sat there and ignored the pain that plundered his head.

 

They didn’t really do that much in English, they spoke of past papers and of what the course would entail. French was fun, though: Mr. Lloris spoke so fast that hardly anybody could understand him, the joys of having a French French teacher. He assigned a little bit of homework, just revision of vocab from last year. Geography passed in a blur of every student trying to wrap their heads around the accent that was coming from the teacher. Still they got homework, answer the questions in the worksheet. The bell rang for break and Marco breathed a sigh of relief; he was starving.

 

The blonde pushed his way through first and second years that crowded the corridors; they held onto their bags in a train so nobody got lost in the sea of pushing bodies. Break was only fifteen minuets long. It took Marco that amout of time just to change the books around and unwrap the foil around his ham sandwich. Just as he swallowed the first bite, the bell rang: they had to walk to their class. Marco, Eric and Jack B. walked to lab one where they stood outside as people pushed past them.

 

“I swear, if anybody knocks me over, I’m going to kill them”, Jack snapped. One first year picked up the pace when he heard the angry tone coming from the taller student.

 

By the time the teacher came around and opened the door to let them in, Marco had finished the sandwich. Marco, Eric and Jack made a beeline for the second lab desk on the right, which was the one beside the window. Mr. Lewandowski grabbed one of the markers from the pot on the large wooden desk.

 

“Since this is a double, you will be doing some work. To start off with, we'll be going over the rules of the lab and what you're going to need, and then once we’ve finished that, you’ll be taking down notes", the black-haired teacher announced from the top of the classroom as he wrote.

 

“Am I right in assuming everybody has the biology book and the experiment book?”.

 

There was a chorus of ‘yes' from the group.

 

“Good, we’ll be needing that tomorrow. Now, just to go over the rules: There is no eating or drinking in the lab, there is no running or no messing in the lab and you must always wear protection. Any questions so far?”, Mr. Lewandowski asked. His eyes were fixed on the board, the black marker shining against the white magnetic surface.

 

Marco dropped his head to the bench. Last year, Mr. Lewandowski took him for most of his classes because he was so far behind everybody else. He was a nice person and an even better teacher; he was a Jack of all trades and a master of History and Biology. He was also one of the coaches of the football team along with Mr. Hazard. Marco's headache had lulled to just the occasional throb when Mr. Lewandowski turned off the lights of the lab and pulled up the notes on Food.

 

“Take these down and I’ll explain it as we go along”.

 

As it turned out, there wasn’t a lot of explaining – they just wrote for over an hour straight. Marco wanted his hand to fall off with the way it cramped. He knew once the bell rang that he only have a short distance to walk to get to Mr. Vardy's lab across the hall.

 

“That’s it for today, you can pack up and get into a lime at the door”, Mr. Lewandowski announced as he turned off the projector.

 

“My hand wants to die", Eric whispered as he flexed his wrist.

 

“If Mr. Vardy makes us write, I’m going to pour all of his Red Bull down the sink”, Marco sighed as the door was opened.

 

The bell rang and they walked across the hall. Marco and Eric watched as Jordan, Paulo, Mauro and Harry walked out of the lab, grins on their faces. James and Toni arrived down to the lab, having just finished a double Art, and Luke trudged to the group after escaping from Woodwork.

 

“What did you do?!”, Harry panicked when he noticed the bandage on Luke's hand.

 

“I’m fine, go to Home Ec”, Luke smiled before they headed into the lab.

 

“Seriously though, what did you do?”, Marco wondered as they sat down on one of the benches.

 

“Sliced my hand with one of the blades. It hurts like fuck, but it’s not deep so it’s fine”, Luke sighed.

 

“Alright, all of you settle down. You are all going to need the workbook, the book and the lab manual as well as one hardback and one copy. Other than that, I don’t really care what you use. I’m sorry to have to do this to you all, but we’ll be starting with bonds today. Take down the PowerPoint presentation”, Mr. Vardy announced as he opened a can of Red Bull.

 

“Sir, you’re not allowed to eat it drink in the lab”, Toni pointed out.

 

“Please – there’s no chemicals out, so it’s fine”, the teacher replied, still sipping at the liquid.

 

No words were spoken during the class, just furious writing and groans of pain or annoyance.

 

“Alright lads, I’ll leave it there. Because of the length of this course and we really only have a year and a half to cover it all, it’s going to be intense. I’m sorry about that, and what I’m about to do. Your homework for the night – and tomorrow because I won’t be here – is to learn your notes and do questions 1 to 7 at the end of the chapter. That’s it, you can start for the last five minutes”, Mr. Vardy announced.

 

Marco didn’t start; he slipped down on the bench, resting his head against the wood that had initials etched into the varnish that covered it. James did the same as him, except the dark-haired boy was doodling on the corner of his copy. Finally the bell went. It was only a short walk from where the labs were to where the lockers were.

 

“I’ve made it through this much, but I’m not going to survive Mr. Grey. He will tear me apart and then I’ll get really angry at him”. Paulo was knocking his head against the grey metal.

 

“If he does anything to you, I’ll just slash three of his tires – he can’t claim on the insurance then", Mauro grinned.

 

“That’s why I love you”, Paulo smiled before he sunk to the floor to change his books around and grab his lunch.

 

“Is there a way we can sack him?”, Adam groaned. “I don’t even have him, but he’s threatened to give me detention twice today”.

 

“We could always spike the coffee and get him drunk”, James smirked.

 

“It’s not that bad yet, Hammie – plus they could find out about it", Toni shook his head.

 

“Harry, you're usually good at figuring this out”.

 

The strawberry blonde held up a finger as he inspected the white bandage that was running over Luke's hand.

 

“Does it hurt?”, Harry wondered.

 

“With you pressing into it like that, it fucking does”, Luke hissed.

 

Eric spotted Granit, who was, of course, tied at the hip with his brother.

 

“Yes, Taulant, I’m not an idiot”.

 

“Granit, can you come here for a sec?”, Eric called as he grabbed the blue copy.

 

Granit left his brother and walked over to Eric. He looked slightly concerned.

 

“What’s wrong?”.

 

“Mum told me this morning that I can’t go to your house this evening. She's going out with Dad and I have to mind Peter", Eric muttered.

 

“I can just go over to yours. Mam won’t mind – she likes you”, the brown-eyed boy grinned.

 

“That’s perfect, then. Might as well just come home with me”, Eric shrugged. Granit nodded.

 

Marco was fairly silent at lunch. He ate and he listened, answering only when spoke to. A few teachers walked in and out of the lunch hall; Marco usually followed their pattern. He was quiet and withdrawn, as were Paulo and Eric – especially Eric.

 

Eric didn’t pay attention in any of the classes. All that was playing on his mind was the amount of homework he had due the next day, especially maths. Mr. Grey had started them off with simultaneous equations, something that everybody hated. He had given them 32 problems to do for tomorrow, but thankfully Mr. McClean gave then time to do their homework in religion. Everybody just wanted the ground to swallow them whole; everybody hated it. They couldn’t possibly get all of the work done for the next day, but they were expected to.

 

As Marco walked home, his heart was beating too fast. Granit and Eric had left, they were going Eric's house at the end of the estate, a ten minutes walk from Marco's house. Marco swallowed down the whine threatening to spill over as the ground felt as though it was moving for him, and the silvery floaters appeared in the corner of his eyes. The pain followed not long after, stabbing and pulsing, the bitter taste of bile running through Marco's mouth. Would he ever have a day's peace?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something to note, the upside of this story will happen once a week, wit her on Saturday or Sunday. I'm sorry about the slow uploads but school is definitely back and unfortunately that comes first.


	3. Chapter 3

The homework was what got to most of them: There was so much of it every night, the assignments were due the next day and then they had to go off and learn them. The only saving grace was PE and Religion. They had all changed from their uniforms into their PE gear, but all of them were exhausted as they walked to the sports hall from the changing rooms. They were all confused when they found blue foam yoga mats.

 

“What? You’re the people who want to sleep during the single class of PE. Do it”, Mr. Hazard smiled as he sat on the floor.

 

...

 

“Mats is gone on retreat with the first years, I need somebody to watch his class in the library”, Jürgen announced at lunch. The teachers were sitting around the staff room.

 

“I can’t do it, I’ve a double”, Jamie shrugged, sipping on the can and munching on Skittles.

 

“I’ll take ‘em”, Robbie sighed.

 

“Thank you. I’m going to need somebody to distribute the calendar and the notice about football, do I have any volunteers?”, Jürgen wondered.

 

“Give me the calendars”, Woj muttered.

 

“I’ll do the football thing”, Robert smiled.

 

“Perfect. Right, well, get to class”, Jürgen joked as the lunch bell went.

 

“See you later”, Robbie kissed the top of his husband's head.

 

Robbie walked down the corridor to the library as the announcement was made from the intercom.

 

“Would Mr. Hummels’ fifth year English go to the library, Mr. Hummels’ fifth years to the library”, Kuba’s voice filled the corridors.

 

Robbie smiled to himself as he walked through the tides of students and into the library. The chairs and desks were back. One desk sat in the middle of the four rows; it had a box that was full of three-page comprehensions on a National Geographic magazine. As the students filled in, Robbie handed each of them the pages.

 

“Listen to music if you want, not too loud”, the Irishman spoke once all of the pages had been handed out and the students sat down.

 

...

 

Marco sighed at Mr. Brady's words. This was why everybody in the school loved him: as long as you were fair with him, he was fair with you. Marco and Eric sat on two adjoined desks.

 

“Do I have to do this, or will you just give me your answers?”, Eric yawned as he fished his phone from the side of his bag.

 

“Question one: in your opinion, why do you think Sharbat Gula's eyes are powerful?”, Marco read aloud, though his voice was barely above a whisper.

 

“I’ll take it that’s a no”, Eric sighed as he started to read through the three pages of writing. For some reason, the last question was the easiest out of all three, even though there was a note beside it that said ‘this is the hardest question'.

 

Eric hadn't been having the best day. Mr. Grey screamed at him for five minutes solid before he moved on to Marco. Both of them had landed in after-school detention on Wednesday because they talked back and were ‘disrespecting a teacher'. Paulo also bore the brunt of Mr. Grey's anger; he had a lunchtime detention for tomorrow, and Mauro was fucking furious. Having that as the first class really put a damper on things.

 

Marco wasn’t fairing much better; his head ached and he felt the thrum of the blood in his veins as he wrote the answers. He saw the way Eric casually glanced at him and the worry that was set in the younger man's face.

 

“You should go home”, Eric whispered, watching his best friend’s hand shake.

 

“To what? A thousand questions and the accusation that I’m lying? I did that enough last year. I’m a big boy, Eric. I’ll be fine", Marco retorted.

 

Eric frowned before he glanced up at the clock above the double doors. There was another 25 minutes left in English, and then they had double religion: Mr. McClean would go on about something that happened hundreds of years ago and something else for the first class, but for the last one he let them do their work. The only sound that was in the library was the sound of pens scratching paper and the low buzz of music in the students’ ears. Finally the bell went; the students picked themselves up, along with their belongings, and they began to trudge to whatever their next class was. Marco met Jack in the corridor; Eric was walking behind him, but he didn’t really seem interested.

 

“What’s wrong?”, Jack called behind him as Paulo and Mauro appeared, arms slung around each other.

 

“I just want to go home, but I also don’t want to go home. George just won't stop crying all night long”, Eric scrubbed a hand over his face.

 

“You can come stay with me, if it’s that bad”, Granit offered.

 

“I can't, I have to mind him for the weekend because mam and dad are going to stay in the city for two nights to ‘rekindle'”, Eric gagged.

 

“Does that mean I can escape from my mother and her overbearing boyfriend?”. Marco sounded so hopeful.

 

“Yeah, they're going Friday evening and they're back Sunday night. Come over if you want, George likes you”, Eric sighed as he pushed through the door.

 

Mr. McClean was standing at the white board, a green and orange marker in his hand.

 

“Right, lads, sit down and listen to me. First class, sectarianism and Catholic-Protestant divide in Northern Ireland. Then you do homework”, Mr. McClean announced as Marco, Eric, Jack and Granit sat at the desks at the very back of the class, in front of the window.

 

Eric's mind wandered to Vincent, his old friend that he hadn’t seen in months. He’d gone back to the Netherlands to visit family and then he wasn’t coming back. Eric remembered the weeks he spent talking to Vincent on Skype and Facebook, but then a month ago it dried up. Eric rolled his eyes at the teacher at the top of the room. Eric never paid attention in religion – what was the point? There was no exam at the end of the road like there was at the other end, unlike all of the other subjects. Eric indulged in listening to the angry teacher as he spoke of the north; he understood where he was coming from.

 

“Alright, that’s it. I’m going to make a cup of tea. I hear one word out of you, and homework privileges are rescinded for a month”, Mr. McClean threatened as he grabbed the mug off his desk.

 

“What’s up with you?”, Marco wondered as he fished for his French books in his bag.

 

“I was thinking about Vinny – you know he hasn’t spoke to me in a month?”, Eric muttered as he took out the Geography book.

 

“Why don’t you try and text him? Maybe he misses you, too". Marco had a small smile on his face; Jack's face was splitting on the other side of Eric.

 

“Misses me? What are you hinting at, Marco?”, Eric eyed the other blonde suspiciously.

 

“We all know that you liked him, ’Ric – I remember the summer”, Marco reminded him.

 

“Go fuck yourself. I didn't like him like that – now if you don’t mind, I want to learn about the Biome”, Eric snapped.

 

Before the class was over, Mr. Lewandowski appeared and announced that the football team tryouts were on Monday.

Marco and Granit made a face similar to one another, and Jack just laughed. Each of them slipped in an earphone as they started to work. In the other corner of the room, the other students were laughing and joking. They worked furiously for the last forty minutes of school. When the final bell rang, Marco was the first one out of his seat and straight to his locker. Although he wanted to vomit at the sight that attacked his eyes.

 

“What did we sat about fucking necking in the corridor?”, He all but shouted as droves of first and second years scurried last them.

 

“Sorry, but Grey the stupid fucking wanker started giving out that we were out of class earlier than we should’ve been, so we necked in front of him, because you know the way he’s a bit homophobic?”, Mauro wondered as he nosed through Paulo's hair.

 

“Fair enough. Does he not realise that he works in an all-boys school? Have of the teachers are married to each other? Like, seriously, you’re either gay or homophobic in this school”, Marco rolled his eyes as he unlocked the silver lock.

 

“Never were truer words spoken, Reus. Mauro also told him to go fuck himself in Spanish. Got himself detention for after school tomorrow”. Paulo didn’t look to impressed at the slightly taller Argentine.

 

“I told you nobody would be a dipshit to you, not when I’m around”, Mauro reminded him, and Paulo dropped his head to his shoulder.

 

Marco rolled his eyes at the pair as he grabbed his books from his locker. This place was already draining him.

 

....

They all had survived another week in hell. They’d been back three weeks now: the hardest, most tiring three weeks of their lives. It was Friday evening; Eric's parents had left an hour ago. Marco was on one sofa, Eric was sitting in the chair and George was asleep in the playpen beside the chair. Jack and Toni were sitting on the other sofa. James and Aaron weren’t allowed to come – both of them were grounded after their antics.

 

“Who else is starving?”, Marco whined as he scrolled through Facebook.

 

“Kebabs or pizza?”, Eric wondered.

 

“Kebabs”, Toni and Marco said at the same time.

 

Each of them produced their wallets and threw in the money to cover the food and the delivery charge. Once Eric finished ringing in the order, George woke up with a gurgle.

 

“Turn on the light, Toni”, Eric sighed as he picked up his baby brother.

 

George was nearly two, but he cried at every opportunity he got. He never slept properly, only naps here and there. Eric produced the bottle of juice from behind the cushion of the seat and handed it to the toddler, who walked with sleepy limbs.

 

“I wish I had a sibling”, Marco sighed.

 

“No, you don't”, Eric promised.

 

“Anyway, if your mam has a baby for Kevin, that means you could never get rid of him”, Jack pointed out.

 

“How's that going, anyway?”, Toni wondered.

 

“He’s still coming down on a Tuesday and Thursday and he’s down this weekend, like every other one. Mam doesn’t understand why I don’t like him – she thinks it’s because he’s taking the attention away from me. Sometime I just want to slap Kevin with a fucking fish", Marco growled.

 

“I know you hate him – just think, in two years you’ll be in college, away from them”, Toni grinned.

 

“So what do you make of the football thing?”, Jack wondered.

 

“I’m going, anyway”, Eric shrugged.

 

“So am I. I think Jack is going, too – goalkeeper or something like that”, Marco announced.

 

“I’m not going anywhere near it – I have to try and pass this year. Is anybody else terrified for the results?”, Jack sighed.

 

“Fucking petrified. Mammy is killing me about them; I’m not letting her see them”. Eric drank from the pint glass of coke.

 

“I just want it over with. I think that’s driving me crazy”. Marco’s face was tense before a loud bang erupted from the room.

 

“That’s the ringtone I sent for Vince". Eric couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

 

The other three friends shared a look. They didn’t need Eric getting hurt again; the summer had been painful for all of them.

 

From Vince J: Hey Eric. I’ve some news for you, let me know if you get this


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: there is underage drinking in this chapter.

Eric took a deep breath before he wrapped his arms around Vincent. He smelled like Vincent, of cedarwood and lime. Eric breathed in the scent deeply as he felt Vincent tightening his grip on the other teenager.

 

“I missed you", Vincent whispered.

 

“How do you think I felt, Vincent?”. Eric had more bark in his voice than was intended. He led Vincent into the living room.

 

The others all greeted their returning friend; smiles of sheer joy erupted onto their faces, but beneath that, they were all worried. Vincent sat down beside Marco as the other three stared at him, waiting for an explanation. George was running around, destroying everything in his path.

 

“I’m sorry, my mam was missing her sisters and granny. I was meant to come back with dad, but that didn’t happen because he’s moved in with his new girlfriend”. Vincent was so apologetic.

 

“Hold on, your parents got a divorce?”, Jack raised an eyebrow.

 

“Separation, to be precise. He’s been going off with this one for the last year and a half apparently. I’m noticing a pattern here”, Vincent shrugged.

 

“Yeah, all of our fathers are fucking wankers”, Jack blew the air as he spoke.

 

“Speak for yourself, I don’t have to deal with my father”, Eric shrugged. “He’s away in business half the time”.

 

“Hey, at least your father has never threatened to murder you”. Marco had to make a joke out of the situation; otherwise, it would tear him apart.

 

“I see you haven’t changed”, Vincent grinned.

 

Marco shrugged indifferently.

 

“What classes are you doing?”, Eric wondered.

 

“Mr. Müller put me in all of the same classes as Marco and Eric; other than that, I don’t know. How's Mr. Grey been this year?”, Vincent asked.

 

“Oh God, he’s being a complete twat-faced wanker”, Marco sighed dramatically as George broke into a fit of laughter.

 

“Right; well, I’m off. Be careful, Vince – one of the young lads on the estate was stabbed in the stomach yesterday”, Jack announced before he threw his various belongings into the black school bag he had brought with him.

 

The estate was a hunk of shite, to put it lightly. At least once a hour the police drove through it. It was a typical council estate, known as the ‘Crystal Blue’; the reason it was called this stemmed from the crystal meth that was tinged with an aquamarine colour. Most of the people that lived on the estate turned to a life of alcohol, drugs or even burglary to get money. Most of the people were on some sort of social welfare, be it lone parent or disability. A lot of people around here had ‘disabilities’ – but you do what you have to do to make sure there’s food for your kids and whoever you’re looking after.

 

The way the houses were arranged was that each one connected to the one beside it, as they went up the small hill. There were rises and rows of semis. It was all either road or concrete pathways. There was a community centre as you came into the estate; the only thing communal about it was the used needle bank. Marco and Eric lived in the same estate, their houses about a 10-minute walk away from one another; Toni, James, Jack, Vincent, Jack and Jordan also lived in that estate. A few of the others lived in the one across the fair green area. This usually spelt trouble with the increase of gang violence that was occurring more and more since the arrival of the Road 35 gang.

 

“It’s nice to know some things never change, even if it is stabbing”, Vincent joked darkly.

 

Jack left soon after the call from his mother. Marco left later, too, just as the sun began to move. Things were silent between Eric and Vincent – both of them had so much that they wanted to say, but neither knew how to articulate it.

 

“I’m sorry about hurting you”, Vincent whispered.

 

“You didn’t hurt me”, Eric lied.

 

“Eric, I’ve known you for most of your life. I hurt you badly. I left you during one of the worst times in your anxiety – I upped and left you to deal with it all”, Vincent recalled.

 

“Yeah, you did. It’s okay – Granit helped a lot, so did the others. The results come out on Thursday of this week. Are you ready? Of course you’re ready”, Eric answered his own question as his voice trembled.

 

“I’m not really, Eric, but they don’t mean anything, okay? Even if they’re terrible, that is no reflection on you or your person. You had a lot of stuff to deal with last year, we all did. But your results are going to be fine", Vincent promised before he threw his arm over Eric's shoulder.

 

“God, I missed your motivational words and that pretty face of yours”, Eric grinned, unaware of the words that came out of his mouth.

 

Vincent felt a flutter inside of him at the older boy's words. Maybe he still had a chance?

 

....

 

Monday was a pain. Marco had a history essay due, a Geography test and a French test, one after the other before lunch. He didn’t even get a chance to study. By he time he came out of the French class, his head was pounding. With the black binder in his arms he walked to his locker, bumping in to all of the first years and a few walls. Eric was lagging behind him; he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to anything. Then Marco bumped into something thick and heavy, only to realise it was Mr. Lewandowski.

 

“Shit, sorry, Sir”, Marco shook his head.

 

“It’s alright. Are you feeling okay?”, Mr. Lewandowski wondered.

 

“No he’s not, Sir, but he won’t do anything about it", Eric called as he finally reached his best friend.

 

“Both of you go to my classroom and sit down, I’ll be back in a few minutes”, Mr. Lewandowski smiled.

 

Marco and Eric slipped into room nine and sat at the front two desks. Marco dropped his head between his knees as his head throbbed. He felt Eric's hand resting between his shoulder blades as he placed Marco’s binder on the dark laminated desk. Me. Lewandowski appeared after a few minutes of tense silence and pained expressions. He produced a pink little tablet and a glass of water.

 

“Thank you", Marco sighed as he swallowed down the tablet. He hated the way it was bitter in this throat with the taste of the bile.

 

“This isn’t the first time you’ve had an attack in school this year, is it?”, Mr. Lewandowski pressed his lips together in a thin frown.

 

Marco winced – he hated that word, but he supposed that there wasn’t a better one. He nodded, though he was staring at the calm meniscus of the water.

 

“Yet this is the only tablet missing from the box. Now, that means one of two things: You have your own, which I don’t care about. Or, you’re not taking the medication”.

 

“To be fair, Sir, it doesn’t magically get rid of them. Even with this tablet, my head feels like a grenade, going off every few seconds: Boom, boom, boom, over and over again until I knock myself out”, Marco shrugged.

 

“So what does the tablet actually do?”, Mr. Lewandowski seemed genuinely concerned, but he was forgetting Eric who was standing to his right.

 

“It gets rid of the nausea and helps to stop the dizziness. Since he came back, they’ve been getting in his way a lot”, Eric announced.

 

“Okay, feel free to come in here at break and lunch any time it gets too loud or you feel off, okay?”, Mr. Lewandowski smiled. His blue eyes were bright. Marco caught a glimpse of them and they seemed so familiar, there was something in them.

 

Marco nodded before he stood up; his legs were still fairly shaky, and the tablet hadn’t started to work yet. Marco smiled at the teacher before he thanked him one last time and left the room. Eric loitered for a minute.

 

“Do you have any tips on dealing with a stubborn idiot like Marco?”, Eric wondered.

 

“Haven’t got a clue, Mr. Dier. Oh, and next time you start texting with Mr. Henderson in my class, I will give you so much homework you will feel like the Germans invading Stalingrad”, Mr. Lewandowski said with a grin.

 

“Point taken, Sir", Eric nodded.

 

Marco sighed to himself as he got his books. English, History and Maths – he’d get through it just because the tryouts were today, that was the only reason. Plus he couldn't go home because his mother had left yesterday to go visit her boyfriend for a few days; at least that meant that Marco wouldn’t have to deal with him. Lunch was a blur as the tablets took effect. The teachers in his classes let him put his head down, but Mr. Grey was not that kind.

 

“Stay focused, Marco, or you’ll fall behind and I won't stop to help because it's your fault”, Mr. Grey shouted as his black marker scraped the whiteboard.

 

Marco begrudgingly picked up the black pen and began to scribble down the notes, even though they were still blurring. Luke frowned beside him before he jabbed Marco's side with his pen.

 

“G'way, Luke", Marco mumbled.

 

“Silence", Mr. Grey screamed.

 

“Mate, would you be quiet? We're trying to write notes here”, Mauro called out.

 

“Watch yourself, Icardi – I will get you expelled".

 

“Excuse me, Sir: Given the fact that you’ve been trying to expel me for the last three years, you won’t be getting rid of my beautiful face", Mauro smirked, his eyes glinting dangerously.

 

“Alright then. Mr. Dybala, come with me", Mr. Grey laughed.

 

Mauro’s chair scraped against the ground. If there was one thing, one thing, that you didn’t do around Mauro Icardi, it was try to pin something on Paulo. Mauro stood up; his jaw was locked, and his eyes were straining deep into Mr. Grey's green orbs. Challenging. Daring. Protective.

 

The bell rang, signifying the last class of the day. Without breaking contact, Mauro began packing away his belongings as Paulo shook his head. Marco, Luke and Eric were smirking – students 1, Mr. Grey 0. After a short trip to their lockers, the guys were going to football tryouts.

 

The air was freezing as the wind swept over them. There were around forty people dotting the football field. Only 23 would make the team. Marco shivered; he was having thoughts about just walking home, but both Joe and Jack were standing on one side of him and Jordan, Eric and Granit were on the other side.

 

“Alright, lads. Unfortunately, not all of you will make the team, so…yeah. Why don’t you start running and then we’ll split you into teams. Based on that, you should know by the end of the week”. Mr. Hazard’s accented voice was carried by the wind.

 

The students started to jog around the football pitch on the school grounds. Marco felt better – walking and running always helped him take his mind off of things. They ran for what felt like hours, but it was only twenty minutes. They were split into four teams: Marco and a few of the others were on one team, and Eric and a couple of others were on the second one. Marco and Eric played against each other. Each half was twenty minutes. Mr. Lewandowski was standing there, taking notes on his clipboard.

 

Marco’s team won by three goals to one. After a quick cool down, the students took their belongings and walked away – some left down the grotto, and others walked out the side gates of the school.

 

Marco and Eric were the first two to leave. As they walked home, the rain flooded from the sky. They mainly talked about their results and their anxieties about getting them. But once they got their results in two days, they would have a good time after it.

 

...

It was 9:15 Wednesday morning. Marco, Toni, Granit, James, Jack, Jack, Aaron, Joe, Vincent, Paulo, Mauro and Eric were all sitting on the only green part of the estate. It was behind all of the houses, built up of dirt with weeds spiralling form the ground. They were in a circle with some cans and naggins between them.

 

“Toni. Toni, you go first”, Jack announced, he led around Aaron in the wind.

 

“Why do I have to go first?”, Toni raised an eyebrow as he ripped into the white envelope. “I passed everything”.

 

“Passed everything? You didn’t get below a C in any subject”. Marco swallowed down the bitter liquid from the can as Toni shrugged, taking a swig from the naggin of whisky.

 

Joe did it next. He shook his head with a grimace on his face before he necked a can of Dutch Gold.

 

“I failed Italian – Gigi is going to look at me with those sad eyes, and he'll spend so much more time with me”, Jack snuggled closer to Jack, nosing at the brown-haired male’s shoulder.

 

They went around the circle from there. Nobody else failed anything, but a lot of the alcohol had already been drunk by the time it got to Marco. Eric would be after him.

 

Marco looked at the white paper: Four C's and three D's and an A, in the subjects that mattered now, the ones he had kept on. Without saying a word, Vincent handed him the vodka; Marco felt the clear liquid burn down his throat and pool in his stomach with the disappointment.

 

“Think of it, Mar – you were missing for a lot of the stuff”, Eric slung an arm around his shoulder.

 

Marco passed on the half-empty vodka bottle as Eric ripped open the white envelope. His heart caught in his chest: six B's and two A's, out of the subjects he'd kept on. They were all that mattered.

 

“Motherfucker, you the champ”, Vincent shouted.

 

He couldn't repress the grin – he’d been so stressed over them, now the vodka as well as the results made him feel so much better.

 

As the weather turned colder and the rain came, the lads were having the time of their lives, drinking happily in a field behind their houses, watching people wander up and down the paths on the estate. That’s when the sirens rang out through the air.


	5. Chapter 5

“There can't be another stabbing, can there?”, Jack sighed, crunching the can of cider in his hand.

 

“You live on Crystal Blue, it’s probably a shooting”, Eric shrugged.

 

“Since the majority of us here have to deal with Grey the ranging wankbag, what can we do to him?”, Jack questioned, moving back to Aaron's unnatural body heat.

 

“Seriously, let me slash the cunt's tires. Please”, Mauro begged.

 

“No, better yet, destroy his house? Burn his car?”. Toni was always the most creative out of them all.

 

“Hey, I know ways to break windows like no other”.

 

Multiple suggestions passed around the group before Vincent spoke, with a twinkle in his eye.

 

“Destroy his marriage. My dad told me that when he was working in the hotel, every Friday night, Mr. Grey was in there, a blonde girl on his arm, at least half his age”.

 

“Who has internet here?”, Paulo exclaimed, slightly tipsy.

 

Marco produced his phone and tapped on the 4G. The others crowded around him.

 

“So, we’re going to look up blonde women? And then we’re going to catfish Mr. Grey? But what if he starts sending dick pics?”, Eric swallowed.

 

“Send them to his wife, his daughter and his twin sons…What? I stalk him on Facebook", Toni shrugged.

 

“What if it doesn’t work? He’s old, he’s not going to add random people”, Joe pointed out as Marco scrolled through various pictures of blonde women.

 

“He has five thousand friends on Facebook, many of whom live in India, Kuwait, Bangladesh, America, Canada, Mexico and Australia. He’ll add the pretty blonde girl”, Toni announced.

 

They spent a while searching for pictures of the same blonde girl. Once they found enough to make a ‘real' profile, Toni took Marco's phone and started to put in her name and things about herself. She even had an imaginary pet cat called Cookie. Toni worked his creative genius; he managed to make it so believable. Soon, requests were flooding in from men and women all across the world. Toni accepted most of them before he sent the request to Jermaine Grey.

 

“What do we do now?”, Paulo asked.

 

“We wait, Joya – then we ruin his fucking life”, Mauro called. His voice had an iron edge to it.

 

“You’re taking some sort of sick pleasure out of this, aren’t you?”, Marco laughed.

 

“Who isn't? That man's a cock. Can we all have the login password, please?”, Eric grinned.

 

“Password is Adria1”, Toni announced as he sunk back into the mound of unusually dry dirt.

 

“We’re going to have to much fun. Nobody else can know, though. This stays between us; I’ll even make a group chat so we can cackle about him", Aaron laughed.

 

“You named the group ‘Fuck Grey’? Good choice”, Joe grinned.

 

It took nearly half an hour for Grey to reply. Joe had left his phone open on the profile; they were just waiting for the message.

 

Grey: Do I know you?

 

“Play it safe, we don’t want to do too much damage”, Marco advised.

 

Adria: I don’t think we know each other. You were on the list, are you a teacher?.

 

Grey: I am. I teach maths. What do you teach?

 

“Lads, what do I teach?”, Toni panicked.

 

“Give me the phone. History in college, wanting to be a lecturer”, Marco answered.

 

“You’re the history expert”, Jack shrugged.

 

Adria: I’m a history student in Galway, I just started my second year.

 

Grey: Primary or secondary?

 

“Creepy motherfucker, no wink faces”, Marco gagged.

 

Adria: Lecturing, actually. Another year of this, and then a few years of Masters and PhD's and we’re done.

 

Grey: Interesting. If you ever need help with anything, let me know, I’ll gladly help.

 

“Haven’t even been talking to him ten minutes and he wants to get into my proverbial knickers", Marco muttered as he handed his phone back to Toni.

 

Adria: Thank you Jermaine. Well I have to go to an RA thing. Chat later.

 

“We need a plan, now", Vincent shook his head.

 

“I’ll sacrifice my tablet to always be logged in, just in case", Eric shrugged.

 

“If he starts texting any one of us, just put it in the group chat”, Aaron announced.

 

“You're mad about that group chat", Jack noted from beside Joe.

 

“Things that are created for the purpose of bringing down cunts make me very happy”, Aaron grinned.

 

“We just have to be careful not to run our mouths off". Vincent was leaning back, half of his head resting on Eric's thigh.

 

Eric sighed constantly at the warm weight on his thigh. It was at that moment he genuinely knew that repressing his feelings for the Dutchman was fucking useless, but the anxiety caused him to swallow and keep his mouth shut.

 

...

 

Thursday passed for each of them in the exact same way: headaches, hangovers and an incurable hunger for all things salty and greasy. Vincent and Toni were the only ones not affected.

 

“Fuck all of you”, Marco whined at lunch. He’d eaten all of his food during his classes, something that was actually very hard.

 

“I think you mean, fuck those two. Did anybody notice that Grey seemed a little happier today?”, Eric wondered.

 

It was only Eric, Marco, Vincent, Toni and Paulo sitting at the last table of the lunchhall. The others in their royally hungover fellowship had gone to the shop at the end of the avenue for bacon and sausage rolls.

 

“He did. Check Cookie", Paulo grinned.

 

‘Check Cookie' was the euphemism they used so nobody else found out about the Adria Facebook page. If this was going to work, it was going to take two things: silence and time. And all of them were determined to make it work and watch that heap of shit get destroyed like he’d destroyed every part of them for the last three years of their schooling.

 

“There’s one message from him: Hey, I know that you’re probably in class, but I’ve just had to deal with my road class. They won’t learn anything and they’re all fully dim-witted. They’re just so difficult, most of them keep kissing one another in my classroom”, Marco read quietly.

 

“Motherfucker. He’s talking about us”, Paulo’s face dropped. “Wait until Mauro finds out he called us dim-witted”.

 

“What’s he gonna do? Slash three tires?”, Eric challenged.

 

“And smash a few windows, maybe send a dead rat to his house? You know Mauro”, Paulo shrugged, as though he’d just spoken a normal sentence.

 

Adria: Oh, that’s one part of the job I’m not looking forward to. Sorry I’m replying so late, the February revolution took a while. Does it bother you that they were kissing? You mentioned you work in an all boys school.

 

“I’m totally hooking him in on the homophobic card", Marco smirked.

 

“Put the phone down”, Vincent whispered as Paul Smith walked by, some weird Christain badge stuck to his tie.

 

“I’m just wanting to tell you, God will accept all of you if you repent all of your sins", Paul announced.

 

“Paul? What does dog food lid spell backwards?”, Toni raised an eyebrow. The others knew where this was going.

 

“I don’t know”. The older boy sat down, very interested.

 

“Dildo of God. Now, if God is loose enough to shove a black mamba up his fucking arse, you can stop hiding behind the veil of religion because you can’t face your own prejudices”, Toni growled.

 

Marco could have sworn he saw tears spring to Paul’s eyes as he strode away. Toni was fucking savage.

 

“Why is Paul crying?”, Mauro wondered as the group came back from the shop.

 

“Toni made the dildo joke again”, Paulo smiled. Whenever the taller boy was around, he couldn’t get rid of that infectious smile. It made him feel warm.

 

“Do you know if the football thing is up? What’s Grey doing?”, Luke wondered.

 

Okay, so the whole ‘keeping quiet’ thing had failed miserably. So far, Marco, Eric, Joe, Jack, Harry, Luke, Mauro, Paulo, Toni, James, Jack, Aaron, Vincent and Granit knew. They had made a promise that nobody else would find out about it – it was too dangerous. Something like this could get them all expelled, all 14 of them.

 

“He was giving out about our class; he hasn’t gotten back to me yet. What do I have after lunch, ’Ric?”, Marco questioned. His head was paining him for a completely different reason today.

 

“Double Biology and French? We have to do the introduction about yourself. Mr. Vardy is probably powerwalking through the corridors because he’s so pent up on his Red Bull. Honestly, how has he not had a heart attack yet?”, Eric sighed.

 

“Heads up, wanker and cunty are coming straight for us", Vincent coughed.

 

“You 14, follow me now. Mr. Klopp is waiting for each one of you”, Mr. Grey screamed.

 

Marco quickly locked his phone so the idiot wouldn’t see Adria’s face on Facebook. Silently the 14 of them took their bags and slung them over their shoulders as they walked to the principal’s offices.

 

“Now boys, I understand that it was a joke, but you really hurt Paul's feelings”, Mr. Klopp sighed.

 

“Sorry, Sir, but do you not think it hurts us when he says that we’re going to hell for loving each other? Or that we're wrong? Some of the names he’s muttered when he thinks we can’t hear him, they burn like fire, they’re etched into our heads”, Paulo, the perfect actor, cried.

 

“I wasn’t aware. Mr. Dybala, please, calm down. I’ll investigate the accusation of homophobia, it is very serious”. Mr. Klopp froze; he felt sick to his stomach.

 

“Thank you, Sir. Unfortunately, it’s true. I’ve seen what those horrible, despicable words do to dear Joya. It breaks my heart”, Jack mumbled as he hugged the younger man to his chest – and felt Paulo grin.

 

Meanwhile, Mauro was glaring daggers into Grey and Paul, wishing he had something to throw at their fucking faces. While he knew that Paulo wasn’t really crying, hearing the little whimpers that accompanied the sobs made him want to really break something – or someone. Rule number one of being near Mauro: Don’t hurt Paulo, even if it’s fake.

 

“All of you can go. I’ll be investigating these claims. If I hear another whisper of anything, all of you will be going up against the board”, Mr. Klopp announced.

 

The boys started to file out of the room. They could all tell that Grey wasn’t happy about something…or everything. The bell rang loudly as they all munched into the hangover cure. They were waiting outside of the labs. Marco and Eric were reciting their French introductions.

 

“I’m never going to get this right", Marco sighed.

 

“I’ve heard worse”, Eric promised.

 

“Such as?”.

 

“Mine. I can literally say, Bonjour. Comment allez-vous? Because you have to vous, not tu”, Eric repeated.

 

“We'll be fine. Mr. Lloris will be fine with it – you’re trying your hardest”, Marco shrugged.

 

Biology was a laugh. Marco, Vincent and Eric were all carrying out their food tears while Mr. Vardy sat at the top of the classroom, Red Bull in one hand and a bag of Skittles in the other one.

 

“Now, unfortunately, we’re going to have to write up these experiments. Have all four of them done for Monday; the test is next Thursday”, Mr. Vardy called.

 

Marco’s phone buzzed in his pocket with a notification from Facebook. Adria’s Facebook.

 

“Fuck”, Marco cursed.

 

“It’s alright, Marco, answer the message. The amount of times you’d have to listen to me is laughable”, Mr. Vardy shrugged as he went back to munching the Skittles.

 

“Sir, this is why we all love you”, Eric called as the piece of bread tuned a blue-black colour.

 

Grey: I’m off for the day. I don't have a problem with gays, as long as it’s not thrown in my face like it is with two particular students in my class.

 

Adria: Oh, I see. I’m actually heading into my last lecture of the day now. I’ll send you a message later, bye.

 

Marco quickly logged out of the profile and went back to his own. They’d have to be more careful.

 

French was a div. Mr. Lloris just went through the proper punctuation for the oral and then told them that they were having a test on Monday for Parler – more studying to look forward to at the weekend. As Marco walked to his locker, he felt himself being pulled back by both Eric and Vincent.

 

“Football sheet is up. 23 players and the majority of them are from out class”, Vincent stepped back.

 

He was right. Marco scanned through the names. He found his own, Mauro's, Paulo's, James’s, Aaron’s, Joe’s, Granit’s, Eric’s, Jack’s, Jordan's, Adam's, Phillipe’s, Toni’s, Paul's, Luke’s, Harry's, Antoine’s, Emre's, Jan's, Dries', Mario's, Kevin’s and finally Vincent’s. That was a very impressive team, Marco decided. He read the note on the bottom. Farming was on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

 

“Does the little God-sprouter have to be on the team?”, Eric growled as he took a picture of it.

 

“It’s fine. Just think of it – he’s going to be in a locker room with a bunch of guys who are already fucking one another. Anyway, he’s probably gay, just repressing it so he doesn’t go to hell”, Vincent shrugged as they rounded to their lockers.

 

The corridors were flooded with various year groups, all of them pushing past Marco as he tried to get to his locker. He knew that it was going to be fun, but also tough; the schools in the area were tough competition. Marco quickly exchanged his books as he headed home. He knew that there was a visitor there – there always was on a Thursday. At least now, Marco would have an excuse to get out of the house away from his mother’s boyfriend.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remeber at the start I said this wouldn't be happy or pretty? Well, this just showcases his bad our boys can be, at the moment. Hope you enjoy it.

The days leading up to Sunday were filled with messages being exchanged between all of the guys and Mr. Grey. Eric was lying on his bed, scrolling through Netflix, when somebody started banging on his door. Cautiously, Eric trudged downstairs and took the small screwdriver that was sitting on the windowsill, just in case. Eric turned the key and opened it; his heart thumped when he saw Vincent.

 

“Eric... Can- can I stay here for a while?”, Vincent slurred, the smell of whisky staining his breath.

 

“Vince, are you okay?”, Eric wondered. At this minute he was thankful that the rest of his family had gone into the city.

 

“Oh yeah, just wanted to get happy", Vincent whispered.

 

Eric didn’t say anything – he just helped the younger teen walk to his bedroom. Eric moved his laptop out of the way before Vincent crashed into the pillows. The scent of Eric surrounded him, like a protective blanket that watched over him.

 

“What did you mean, ‘Get happy?’, Vince?”, Eric wondered after a while.

 

All the blonde got was silence, then a few soft snores as Vincent curled around his pillows. Eric reached over to grab his phone and he texted Marco.

 

Eric: I have a very drunk, very passed out Vincent here.

 

Alpaca: What??? Why is he drunk at one in the day?

 

Eric: I don’t know Mar, he said something about drinking to get happier.

 

Alpaca: Mate, that’s never a good sign. I don't know, just let him sleep it off and talk to him later. Anyway, I’m going over to Luke to help with History. Let me know how it goes.

 

Eric: Thanks Marco.

 

Eric sighed as he dropped his phone to the grey bed sheet. The blonde moved over to the little chair by the window and took the French book with him: he had a test the next day on the verb Parler. But, most of Eric’s attention was focused on the snoring boy that had his head curled around Eric’s pillow. A few hours passed and Eric completed all of the studying he had before Vincent woke up. He took large gulps of the cold tap water that was in the white ceramic mug.

 

“Don’t speak", Vincent whispered, his voice dry, when he noticed that Eric was going to speak.

 

“No, I fucking will. Vincent, you came to my house at one o’clock in the day, pissed out of your brains and now, now you’re telling me not to talk about it? What’s going on?”. Eric’s voice was raised and it held a sharpness to it, an anger that burned in his eyes. But there was also a fear.

 

“I was bored, it won’t happen again”. Vincent was moving to sit up before Eric pushed him back to the bed.

 

“Don’t try to lie to me, Vince, just talk to me. You trust me, don’t you?”. Eric moved to sit on the edge of his bed, his fingers gliding over the pale skin of Vincent’s wrist.

 

“If I say it, then I’m admitting that I have a problem, and I don't”, Vincent sighed.

 

Eric bit into his lip to stop his anger from boiling over and burning Vincent like acid.

 

“Well, it’s after four. I don't know when my family will be back, but you can stay here as long as you want. I’m going to study”. Eric got up and took the binder full of pages and notes off of the windowsill.

 

Eric left the room and set up studying on the sofa. It was about half an hour before Vincent emerged – he looked a bit more alive, but the bags were still glaring a deep bluish purple beneath brown eyes.

 

“I need you to come here”, Vincent requested, as he stood at the foot if the sofa.

 

Eric sighed before he turned all of his books into the coffee table. Eric stretched as he stood, but he felt something wrap around his body.

 

“Thank you. I’m sorry”, Vincent whispered into Eric’s neck.

 

“It’s okay, Vin, but you need to get it out. You know we all love you, and we all want you to be happy. We care. Getting yourself shitfaced won't help you”, Eric promised before their eyes met.

 

“I should have done this months ago", Vincent whispered.

 

...

 

Marco was lying on his bed; the laptop lay forgotten beside him. He was tired and debating whether or not to go to sleep, but he hadn’t finished studying for his French test. With half lidded eyes and a sharp twinge in his head, Marco turned his head to check the clock that lay in the chimney-breast of the room: 1:30 am. Marco hadn’t realised it was that late. Quietly, not to wake his mother, he began to pack his bags for school the following morning. It was nearly two when Marco went to sleep, and there was a constant recurrence in his dreams: a stranger with beautiful blue eyes and dimples.

 

Marco was like a zombie the next morning. His head pained even more than he thought imaginable as he sat in French, his desk beside the wall right in front of Mr. Lloris’s desk. Eric was beside him.

 

“Are you feeling okay, Marco?”, Mr. Lloris questioned as he handed out the near blank verb sheet.

 

Marco nodded, not trusting his voice as little silver things floated around his vision. Marco scribbled at the test aimlessly; he knew the answers, but his hand wouldn’t stop swinging enough so that his writing would become readable. At the end of class, they all handed their papers up and left. Marco walked in front of Eric, who was standing back just in case he fell backwards. Now Marco understood why the school had called him a health and safety risk.

 

“This is so stupid. How could he even read what I wrote? It looked like squiggly lines”, Marco growled before be banged his locker.

 

“Watch yourself, Reus, or you’ll be paying for damages”, Grey's snot-nosed voice came from the side.

 

Marco ground his teeth together before he turned around, but there seemed to be a human wall erected between him and Grey.

 

“He’s not worth it, Marco. Just breathe”, Paulo sighed.

 

Marco turned back to his locker and took out his Biology and Geography books, as well as his history book. He double checked that his essay was in the plastic pocket. It wasn’t due until Wednesday, but if Marco kept it, he’d end up losing it. Marco wasn’t hungry; even though the others glared daggers at him, they took the parts of his lunch that he was giving them.

 

“You don’t know how much I want to kick the shit out of that cunt", Joe spat, cracking his knuckles as he looked at Jack beside him. The tall, brown-haired man seemed distant.

 

“So would I. Break a few windows in his house”, Mauro smirked as he kept his hand on top of Paulo’s hand.

 

“That’s illegal”, Eric sighed. He was worrying about Vincent.

 

“So is a lot of the shit we do", Luke pointed out.

 

“I’m not having anything to do with it”, Harry shook his head – not a chance.

 

“I’m in", Marco smirked.

 

“So am I", Paulo had that unsettling grin on his face.

 

“Excuse me, do any of you know where he lives?”, Toni questioned.

 

“No, but you do. And after what he said about me, and Eric, and Granit, both Jacks and Vincent – it should make you want to put a brick through his fucking brain”. Marco never held back when it came to people he didn’t like, which was a lot.

 

“Of course I’m in”, Toni laughed before his phone buzzed.

 

They spent the last twenty minutes of lunch talking to Grey as Adria and it was hilarious, toying with his emotions like he had with students for the last 20 years.

 

The only thing Marco looked forward to that day was football, even if his eyes made it seem as though there were several balls all gliding around. They didn’t really do anything: they warmed up, ran, dribbled and filled down. It was Eric's job to explain to either Mr. Hazard or Mr. Lewandowski that Vincent wasn’t there, but he'd be back tomorrow.

 

“I can't believe you're actually doing this”, Granit shook his head, gearbag thrown over his shoulder.

 

The group consisted of Mauro, Paulo, Marco, Aaron, Granit, Toni and James. They'd be meeting midget Jack on the green about ten minutes away from Grey's house.

 

“You’re about to be an accessory to criminal damage”, Mauro reminded them. It was already starting to get dark; it had only gone 6:30pm.

 

“Maybe we should wait until it gets darker. Just wait in the little hill that’s fill of broken bottles and rats", Marco advised.

 

“Alright then”, Aaron shrugged. He caught sight of Jack about fifty steps in front of him.

 

Marco looked around. Instead of having a hill, this slightly better estate had a ditch down at the bottom, closer to the other estate. Once they met Jack, they all headed down to the ditch, being careful of where they stepped.

 

“I’m going to have so much homework because of you”, Jack muttered, after nearly two hours of sitting there.

 

“Hey, I’ve been using this time to take a more flirty note with Grey, and it’s funny as fuck”, Paulo shrugged.

 

“I don’t want that mental image”, Toni groaned.

 

“We need to decide who's staying with the bags”, Marco muttered in the rippling wind.

 

“I volunteer as tribute”, Granit muttered. “I only came along to make sure none of you get arrested”.

 

The others got to their feet and set off on the journey to Grey's house. Marco instantly recognised it because of the black Ford parked in the driveway. All of them had their hoods pulled up over their heads so no part of them was visible. The orange street lamps glowed – the ones that worked, anyway.

 

Mauro was the first one to throw the rocks that lay hidden in his pockets. As the others threw glass bottles, rocks and bricks at the house, Mauro snuck behind all of them and slashed three of the car tires. They heard the key in the door and all scampered in the same direction; it was a cul-de-sac, so there was only one way go. Thank God all of them were fast runners, because Grey tried chasing them. He was fast for an old man – not fast enough for the lads, though. They all collapsed into the ditch where Granit was on the phone, typing away.

 

“He’s asking Adria's advice. He’s after calling the police”, Granit sighed.

 

“Then we better go home, splitting up would be best”, Mauro advised.

 

“Get me away from this crazy fucker”, Jack laughed as he fistbumped Mauro.

 

“What did you do?”, Paulo growled, jabbing Mauro in he chest.

 

“Slashed his tires”.

 

“With what?”, Marco asked.

 

“With this. And no, it’s not illegal, either, because it’s under three inches. But it’s sharp". Mauro watched as the knife gleamed beneath the silver glow of the moon.

 

“Do you always carry a knife with you?”, Jack wondered.

 

“We all live on Crystal Blue – are you telling me you don’t carry protection?”. Mauro raised an eyebrow as he picked up his school bag and gearbag.

 

“He has a fair point”, Toni muttered as he yawned.

 

They all went their separate ways, but they didn’t realise just how much of an impact their actions would have. No, they didn’t. But they would find out.


	7. Chapter 7

From early October, Marco knew that something was happening. He watched with wondrous eyes in History, his green-brown orbs drawn to those of a stormy sea. He knew this would be a problem. It was the week before the midterm and all of the classes were having their tests. Marco didn’t care – he was too caught up in his own world, especially with football. The first game of the season started on the last day of school before the midterm tests, Thursday the 21th.

 

Eric continued to worry about Vincent; he felt like he was becoming a second mother to Vincent. The thing with Grey was developing slowly – the lads had left Marco and Paulo in charge of the more flirty messages that had been exchanged.

 

“I don’t know what to do about Vincent, I’m constantly worrying about him”, Eric sighed as he lay on Marco's bed.

 

The pair was meant to be studying quotes from Macbeth, but that wasn’t the case. Marco was texting Grey, wondering if this was what it was like to be a teenage girl.

 

“I’m here texting a teacher, it could be worse", Marco pointed out.

 

“Or better if it was Mr. Lewandowski”, Eric grinned.

 

“What?”, Marco coughed – was he that obvious?

 

“Please, name somebody who wouldn’t jump his bones? I know you have a crush on him”, Eric laughed at the blush on Marco's cheeks.

 

“And you want to bone Vincent", Marco retorted.

 

“That be true, but at least mine isn’t illegal".

 

“Fuck off, it’s not like I’m going to do anything – apart from him losing his job, knowing my luck he’d be the one that would go to prison. Now, have you thought about telling Vince?”, Marco wondered as highlighted Lady Macbeth and her craziness.

 

“But it’s not the right time, he has his own problems. What was Grey saying before you went back to Mrs. Crazy?”, Eric shrugged.

 

“He was giving out about his wife and her bridge club. Boring as fuck but funny. I can’t wait to use this against him", Marco grinned as he posted the screenshots into their group chat.

 

Joya: Da fuck? Bridge club? Lol.

 

Luke: Y'all know we have a perve for a teacher.

 

Marco dripped his phone as the two continued to study. Marco’s mind was only half focused.

 

“Was it that obvious? Like, does anybody else know?”.

 

“No, Mar, I’m just very observant. As long as your celebration isn’t shifting him, you’re safe. What about me and Vince?”.

 

“Oh, no, that’s very obvious, Eric. Can the two of you just get together now, so I can complain about being the only single one lusting after a teacher who has really nice eyes?”, Marco smiled. He’d been thinking of those blue eyes a lot lately.

 

“Can I just be supportive right now? He needs a friend more than he needs a boyfriend”, Eric pointed out.

 

“You have a point. Be that friend. Why are we wasting our Wednesday before the match?”, Marco wondered.

 

“Because we want to do well on our tests so we can do well in life and get out of this forsaken estate?”, Eric answered.

 

“Wanna play Fifa?”, Marco raised an eyebrow.

 

“Sure”, Eric nodded as they started to clear the books off of the double bed.

 

The pair ignored their phones for the next two hours. They always got competitive; on the 15th game, it was seven a piece and it ended on penalties.

 

“If you look at my remote I will kill your social life", Marco threatened as he went for a chip shot.

 

“I don’t cheat, Marco”, Eric growled. If there was something he hated, it was being labelled a cheater.

 

“There’s no need, cause I’m going to destroy you”, Marco smirked.

 

In the end, Marco won, three penalties to two. Eric left a short time later. It was safe to say that studying with your best friend was a recipe for disaster.

 

×××

 

It was break time on Thursday. All of the players were ready and getting in the bus that would bring them to the school about half an hour away for their first game. Marco and Eric were sitting together as usual, but they were watching two very angry Argentines muttering in Spanish.

 

“This argument is fabulous. Basically Paulo is mad because Mauro didn’t go over last night to do ‘homework’”, James whispered from the seat behind them.

 

“That makes it even better. Why does he look so pouty?”, Marco wondered as he stared at Paulo.

 

“Because he's Paulo and he’s always pouting. Get it together, Mar".

 

Up at the top of the bus Mr. Hazard and Mr. Lewandowski were running over the teamsheets.

 

“How about Butland, Shaw, Dier, Vertonghen, Smith, Kroos, Rodriguez, Dybala, Reus, Kane and Icardi?”, Mr. Hazard questioned.

 

“It sounds good to me, announce it", Mr. Lewandowski nodded.

 

There was another ten minutes to the school. All of the players changed into their black shorts and red jerseys. All of the players warmed up on the pitch before the reserves took their place on bench.

 

Marco was buzzing with excitement as the first whistle went – all of them were. None of them felt freer than when a ball was at their feet, especially when they dribbled it past a knobbly-kneed defender and the ball found the back of the net, which happened three times in the first half. It went by like clouds on a windy day. The half time team talk was inspiring; none of them were tired, all of them were running in adrenaline.

 

“You're all doing great out there, lads. Keep it up okay”, Mr. Hazard grinned as he took a drink from the plastic water bottle.

 

“That's such an inspiring talk. Mr. Lewandowski’s was better", Eric laughed.

 

“Be nice or I’ll sub you”, Mr. Hazard threatened jokingly.

 

Eric shrugged as they went back outside. The second half went even better – the other team barely got near Jack in the goal. If it wasn’t for the magnificent goalkeeper between the sticks, it could have been a higher scoreline than 4-0. On the bus home, there was no great celebration; most of the boys had books out and were studying for the English exam that was on at 9:30am the following morning. Marco was having a hard time wrapping his head about ‘Elm' by Syliva Plath. It was too dark for his liking – it brought back bitter memories. Beside him, Eric was texting Grey. He felt the other blonde push his side.

 

“What do you think?”, Eric whispered.

 

Grey: I wish I could meet you, Galway is too far away.

 

“Fucking weird”, Marco laughed before he took the phone.

 

Adria: I know, I like texting because I can do it in class. It’s not my fault that the Romanoffs are boring

Marco handed the phone back before he went to studying. These tests would kill him – and he had Christmas ones to look forward to in 6 weeks as well. The joys.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You could be getting two chapters this week, but you might only be getting one. I don't know if I'll be near any electricity/ internet on Saturday as I'm away with the family. If I have electricity/ internet, I will post the chapter that follws this one. Just don't bank on it.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this one and as always, l wave you comments and questions below

Marco was not looking forward to Monday: it was his maths exam, followed by Chemistry. It was a migraine waiting to happen. He could see how anxious Eric was; he was taking deep breaths, harsh laboured breaths that caught in his throat and caused him to choke. The had the first hour to study, then they had a twenty-minute break. The second the hour of study was up, Marco and Vincent followed Eric to the bathroom, just in case.

 

Marco’s heart broke for his best friend. He was essentially clawing at his throat as his knuckles went white from the pressure Eric was exerting. Vincent placed a comforting hand in between Eric's shoulder blades and pressed it down softly.

 

“Come on, Eric, breathe for me. That’s it, that’s it. In and out”, Vincent smiled as Marco pressed between them.

 

“Get me his water, will you?”, Marco asked.

 

“I’ll be back in a second, Eric, keep breathing”, Vincent grinned, a toothy, lovable grin that was infectious, but not this time.

 

Vincent left the pair as Eric tried to regulate his breathing. It still felt as though somebody was stabbing his heart and it felt as though his throat was closing up, ripping him open and exposing his vulnerability. Marco was leaning back against the sinks, watching Eric without touching him.

 

“It's a stupid test, ’Ric, they don’t matter in the long run. And if it's because it's maths, remember what we're doing? You’ll be fine, I known you don’t believe that but you will be”. Eric nodded as his friend's words.

 

Vincent had returned with the bottle of water; he handed it to Eric, who took a few gentle sips.

 

“Eric, I know it's a bad time, but Mr. Long and Mr. Grey, they want the three of you back in your seats – the exam starts in five minutes”, Granit frowned.

 

“Thanks, Granit, we're coming back now”, Eric nodded.

 

The four of them walked back to the lunchhall and took their seats near the back, where they were surrounded by the others. None of them looked happy, or prepared for the exam, but each of them would do it anyway. They had to. If they missed this exam they'd be slighted the Monday they came back.

 

Marco really didn't have a clue what had happened to the exam. He felt as though it was too easy, but maybe that’s what happened when he actually went to school? Either way, the time flew by and he got it all finished. Then the bell rang for lunch, after which they would have the Chemistry test – now that one would be fun.

 

“Was it just me, or was that too easy?”, Eric swallowed.

 

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who though that”, Paulo shrugged, chemistry book on his lap and his head on Mauro's shoulder.

 

“You should be learning, Zafiro, you have history tomorrow”, Paulo mumbled.

 

“I’ve three hours to study while you do Chemistry”, Mauro reminded.

 

“You two are shockingly sweet. It’s horrible”. Luke shivered dramatically, staring at Harry. “Why can’t we ever do that?”.

 

“Because if I attempted that, I'd be shot in the face, Luke”, Harry pointed out.

 

“Can you two shush? I’m trying to learn here”, Eric muttered.

 

“How do you think you did in English, Eric?”, Vincent teased.

 

“There’s more than ten thousand words in the English language and none of them can articulate how much I want to hit you in the face with this fucking chair”, Eric smirked as Vincent slid back into the plastic chair.

 

“Good boy”, Eric petted his head patronisingly.

 

“Will you two just fuck already?”, Aaron groaned – honestly, they were doing his fucking nut in.

 

Both Vincent and Eric burst out laughing. Neither of them could contain themselves and most of the occupants of the lunchhall turned to them, giving them looks.

 

“Sorry”, Vincent coughed, his face a splotchy red colour.

 

Eric continued to hic and laugh quietly as he read about ionic and covalent bonding.

 

By the end of the week and many sleepless nights later, Marco was burnt out. All of them were. They were all lying around Paulo's sitting room, a cheaply made horror film playing in front of them on the plasma.

 

“The tests weren’t too bad, I suppose”, Aaron shrugged.

 

“The messages between Adria and Mr. Grey got steamier. Question: how far are we taking this?”, James wondered.

 

“To the end of the line. I don’t care how perverted he is, or we are: we’re getting him to have some fun and then, we ruin his life”, Eric grinned as he ran his fingers through Vincent's hair.

 

“I think we’re the perverted ones, but I’m fine with that”, Marco laughed.

 

As they all enjoyed the afterglow of their exam, something was brewing in one of them, something dark and dangerous, something that jeopardized his whole life.


	9. Chapter 9

Vincent knew he had a problem, a problem that had the potential to ruin his life before it had even really started. Instead of going to the off-licence to buy a shoulder of whatever he could get his hands on, he called Eric. His mother had gone to do the shopping; she wouldn’t be back for at least three hours.

 

“What’s wrong, Vince?”. Eric picked up straight away. Worry was evident in his smooth voice.

 

“I’m sorry, I, I just need somebody and I don’t want to drink. Please Eric, just help me". Vincent was begging; his heart was ripping in his chest, burning like a fire as all of his thoughts migrated down to his stomach.

 

“I’ll be over in a few minutes. Want me to stay on the phone?”, Eric wondered.

 

“I’ll be okay, I just don’t think I can be alone right now”. Vincent sounded so broken, so helpless, Eric wanted to cry.

 

So they stayed on the phone, talking about random things: how they were all so relaxed for their week off, and how they couldn’t wait for Halloween night. Their annual scarefest would happen again – it was the best damn night of the year. Eric only hung up when he knocked on the frosted glass of the front door. Immediately, he latched onto Vincent, his own heart was tearing as his fingers ran deftly though Vincent's soft, thick hair; he knew from past experience that it was the only thing that could calm him. Vincent started blabbing about how weak he was, about how stupid he was being. Eric simply held him closer.

 

“You’re going to be okay, Vince, even if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll be with you the whole way, I promise”, Eric hugged him tighter. He was definitely using his slight height advantage – Vincent's face was buried in the side of his neck.

 

Tears slid down like pearls of acid, staining his cheeks a slightly red colour. Eric took a step back and thumbed then away.

 

“Why do you care?”, Vincent sniffed, eyes locked on Eric.

 

“Because we all do, Vince. We all love you to bits, you're the happy person in a group full of pessimistic assholes sometimes. Don’t ever think that we don’t care", Eric promised. “And I care because I care about you. I worry when I don’t see you eating, I worry when you don’t come to school because I know you’re too hungover to function. It frightens me”.

 

Vincent didn’t know how to respond. Instead he gripped the back of Eric's neck and brought their lips together softly; it was short, the taste of salty tears dancing on their tastebuds as Eric's hand gripped the back of Vincent’s hair, pulling their faces impossibly close.

 

“Please don't go”, Vincent whispered, his voice as fragile as a leafling in spring.

 

“I’m not going anywhere, not unless you want me to", Eric promised, lips finding Vincent’s head.

 

×××

 

By now, Marco knew he definitely had a problem: he was catching himself staring at a certain dark-haired, blue-eyed teacher in History and during training. He was well and truly fucked. Even the others had picked up on it, and that’s never good. Eric had continued to tease him about his certain blue-eyed prince, but Marco knew he was fucked. He was just waiting until he was caught staring too long, then the real problems would start.

 

×××

 

Mauro and Paulo were lying around the younger teen’s room. Both of them were scrolling through Facebook, yet they still seemed to be wrapped around one another. The silence was comfortable and long-stretching, until Paulo dropped his phone, the essence of pure fear etched into his beautiful face. Mauro was instantly concerned, his heart thumping in his chest.

 

“What’s wrong?”, Mauro asked as he dragged Paulo close to him, kissing the top of his unkempt hair.

 

“Look at my phone”, Paulo swallowed, before he handed the older man the smartphone.

 

Mauro growled at message.

 

Unknown: I know you’re there. I have pictures, do what I say or I’ll post them.

 

“Paulo, stop panicking – it’s probably just the guys messing around”, Mauro shrugged, but he was panicking on the inside.

 

“And what if it’s not?”, Paulo was going to speak some more but another text beeped.

 

Unknown: You have two days to meet with me, so I can set you straight you homo.

 

“When I find this bastard I’m going to kick his bloody head in. Want to see if the others can help?”, Mauro wondered, his voice tight and sharp as he stroked the younger boys cheek.

 

Paulo nodded before he scooted closer to the tall, warm presence in his bed. He was resting his head on Mauro's chest as he typed out a text to the group chat.

 

Mauro: Does anybody know this number?

 

Harry: I don’t. What’s up?

 

Aaron: It looks familiar. I don t know for who, though. Have you tried putting it into Facebook?

 

Mauro: I’m here with Paulo, read these.

 

Mauro took a screenshot of the messages before he posted them to the group chat.

 

Eric: No fucking way.

 

Luke: Seriously? Motherfucker has another thing coming.

 

James: How's Paulo?

 

Leave it to James to be the motherly one of the group. Paulo had taken his phone back, though Mauro did notice the shake in his hand.

 

Paulo: I’m fine, I just want to know what pictures.

 

Toni: We'll sort it out. Don't worry.

 

Paulo: Thanks, Tone.

 

Paulo went back to staring at the messages. What pictures?

 

Paulo: What pictures?

 

It was a few minuets before there was a reply.

 

Unknown: You know what they are Paulo, think if what your mother would say, or your father. But, since you’ve tested me, we can meet tomorrow, 11pm in the park around from your house.

 

Paulo: Tomorrow is Halloween, I have plans, unlike you evidently.

 

Unknown: Guess your just going to have to cancel them, don't bring anybody else.

 

Paulo: Well first off, it’s you're, and two, I’ll bring whoever the fuck I like. You better make sure that Mauro doesn’t kick your useless head in, you fucking doughnut of a person.

 

After that little exchange, Paulo turned off his phone and went back to being wrapped around his personal heater.

 

“Don't worry, mi joya, I’ll kill them if they do anything”, Mauro promised, lips resting against his forehead.

 

“That’s what I’m afraid of”, Paulo muttered.

 

×××

 

For the lads, Halloween was usually the best time of the year: they got to eat their weight in sweets, crisps and chocolate. It was already dark outside, and the house inside was in darkness. Eric's parents had taken George to his aunts in the country because he didn’t really like loud noises, and there would be a lot of fireworks and bonfires.

 

“We all set, then?”, Eric wondered as he looked at his friends strewn around his sitting room.

 

Eric, Vincent, Granit and Marco were all sitting on the main sofa, bags of popcorn, drinks and other assortments all in their baskets – yes, they had baskets. Paulo and Mauro were on the smaller sofa, another duvet pulled over them. Toni and James were on the floor underneath Paulo and Mauro, Jack and Aaron were sitting on beanbags, and finally, Luke and Harry were sitting on the mat that had been pulled up under the sofa.

 

“Yup", Luke shrugged, wrapping the thick black fleece around the two of them.

 

“First film, Chucky". Eric grinned notoriously when Vincent, James and Aaron cursed. They’d be fine with any other film, except maybe The Ring, but thankfully that wasn’t an option for tonight.

 

“I actually hate you”, James pouted before he crushed some popcorn.

 

They way they worked it out was, they’d have time for two films before they all went with Paulo. They even had masks, just in case Mauro lost his temper. They made it seem as though nobody was home: the curtains were pulled and no lights were on except for the bathroom light. It’s not like they had many visitors; the trick of the estate usually put you in hospital, the treat was a clear blue crystal of glass. The time was getting away from them. Most of the good stuff was eaten halfway through Chucky, a film that left James, Aaron and Vincent scared shitless and questioning if any of their toys had ever tried to kill them. The film after had been Friday the 13th; this time Jason was taking on the Big Apple. After it, they were all getting ready because the alarm for half past ten went off.

 

“You don’t have to do this, Paulo”, Mauro reminded him. The ski mask was in his hand, thick and black.

 

“I want to. I know you'll be there to protect me, and so will the others. You need to stop worrying about me, though”, Paulo pointed out, sliding his arms around Mauro's neck.

 

“I love you”, Mauro whispered before their noses bumped, their lips just touching.

 

“Can you not? I eat in here”, Eric gagged.

 

Mauro rolled his eyes before he flipped the blonde off.

 

“Time to go?”, Paulo wondered.

 

“Time to go”; Eric confirmed, leading them out of the kitchen.

 

Quickly they all pulled on their masks. Jack growled deep in his throat when he looked himself in the mirror.

 

“It’s sparkly”.

 

“Just like you”, Aaron teased before he wrapped his arm around the shorter man.

 

Eric and Marco made sure that the house was locked up before they left. Mauro and Paulo were leading the pack, Marco and Eric behind them all. They didn’t get any looks. The joys of Halloween: you could get away with murder.

 

“How's Vince?”, Marco whispered. Fireworks were cracking overhead in a vast array of colours.

 

“He’s doin’ better. How’s your whole situation with Robert?”, Eric cackled at the red blooming in Marco's cheeks.

 

“Don’t call him Robert, that’s weird. And obviously nothing has happened because if it did, then he’d lose his job, Eric. Plus, I don’t even think he knows I exist”, Marco muttered.

 

“You forget I’m in your history class, and I’m on the same football team as you, right? He cares, Marco, trust me on this, yeah?”, Eric smiled, pearly whites glinting in moonlight as his face was a canvas from pinks and blues.

 

“I think I trust you too much”, Marco laughed.

 

“You love me”, Eric sighed as they rounded the corner to the park.

 

Of course it would be filled with people, adults, teenagers and kids alike, all of them out under the moon’s watchful gaze. Paulo had separated from the group a few minutes ago, just so whoever this was wouldn’t see the rest of the lads.

 

Paulo: I’m here, where are you?

 

Unknown: You're three minutes late, you’re lucky I’m a nice person, otherwise your mamma would have been getting these pictures.

 

Paulo’s stomach turned as five different pictures came in on his phone. He quickly forward them on to Mauro, who was definitely going to kill somebody.

 

“Creepy fucker has been watching him”, Mauro growled. He was getting ready to take a step until Marco ripped him back.

 

“Not yet”.

 

Paulo: Who are you? Why are you fucking doing this, you cunt?

 

Unknown: That’s not very nice, come down to the pond and see.

 

It took a lot to get Paulo anxious or worried, but something in his gut was telling him to run, to deal with the repercussions because he could be walking down to somebody who wanted to slit his throat, or somebody who wanted to stab him through the stomach and watch as he writhed in pain, crying out. But Paulo wasn’t going to stand down – no, he’d spent well too much time with Mauro to let his fears get to him. So, after sending a quick text to the others, he started walking down to the pond.

 

Mauro: Paulo, don’t you fucking dare. I’ll go, just come back.

 

Paulo stopped in his tracks as he felt two people drag him back to the main group.

 

“You’re not going down there", Mauro ground his teeth.

 

That’s when Paulo started with his myriad of abuse in Spanish. Both James and Toni looked very uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.

 

“Guys, why don’t we all go? Aaron's the fastest, he can nick the phone and we can run”. Marco stood in the middle of them.

 

“Fine, but if he so much as speaks, I will pick his fucking head off and ask to play football with it”, Mauro stalked off, leading the group down to the pond.

 

They stopped at the trees. There was one man sitting there, a pig mask on his face – how fitting? Mauro walked down the little hill, and the pig mask man stood.

 

“To be honest, I didn’t think a little pussy like you would show up”. Mauro knew that voice. The anger was boiling inside of him – surely one kick couldn’t hurt?

 

“Say what you want about Paulo, Paul, but do not call him a pussy when I am within kicking distance”, Mauro snarled, his left leg flying into Paul’s shin.

 

The phone dropped as Paul slid to the leaf-filled ground. Mauro continued to kick at his shins and his stomach, until Paulo, Eric and Luke pulled him away from the coughing teenager. Aaron picked up the phone and they started walking, leaving the crying form buried in the leaves. They got back to Eric's; they’d been gone for a little over an hour. When they sat down in the sitting room, they realised the magnitude of what had happened.

 

“You crazy bastard”, Harry exclaimed, staring at Mauro.

 

“Are you telling me you would have let the same thing happen to Luke?”, Mauro raised an eyebrow.

 

“I wouldn’t have kicked Paul half to death. What if he gets the cops?”, Harry sighed.

 

“We were all here, watching films like we’ve done since we were ten. There's bonfire over the road on the green – dump all of the masks into a bag and burn them”, Eric swallowed.

 

“I’ll go. Give me everything, including his phone. They’re all going to be searching for that and if it had GPS, we’re all fucked”, Aaron volunteered.

 

“Can you wipe it without his password?”, James wondered.

 

“Anybody has a pin or a needle?”, Aaron asked.

 

Eric strode into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later, handing the Welshman a needle from his mother’s sewing box.

 

“Perfect”, Aaron muttered after a few seconds of jimmying the point inside the phone, activating the factory reset.

 

Aaron took the brown paper bag full of masks and lugged it across to the green, where he dumped it into the waiting bonfire. The phone was gone, too; he flung that with all of the strength he had, deep into the black sky. When it made it back to the concrete, it would be smashed to a trillion pieces. Aaron was freezing when he got back to Eric's house; there was a bitter wind out, and it froze him to the bone. He clung to Jack's side, breathing loudly as he tried to warm up.

 

“How we deal with him in school? He’s on our team, for fuck’s sake”, Toni swallowed. This wouldn’t be good in the long run.

 

“Forget about that, how are we going to deal with the cops?”, Vincent laughed, showing then the Facebook post.

 

“To the gang of scum that beat my boy black and blue, and took his phone. I hope when the police catch you, you cry like the big children you are. Now I’m stuck in A&E during the busiest night of the year”, Marco read out. “Well, if your son wasn’t such a homophobic cunt”.

 

“We are fucked if he names us”.

 

“We’ll be grand, worst thing that happens is they send us to a delinquent centre. Mount Joy is next year”, Luke joked. He didn’t really care – Paul got what he deserved.


	10. Chapter 10

Marco felt the thrumming blood run through his veins – that added something to him, something that needed risk and temptation. Yet it was his heart, the very centre of his body, that told him that there was a chance. No matter how slim it may be, there would always be a chance. But, of course something was out to destroy him, there always was. But those blue eyes made him weak.

 

It was a Tuesday, right before lunch. The whole of fifth year had been called to the lunchhall for an assembly, and the boys already knew what it was about. Luke and Harry were leaning back, ready for whatever bullshit was about to come, while Paulo and Mauro just looked disinterested. Marco was just thankful it got him out of a test.

 

“As some of you already know, one of our own students, Paul Smith, was attacked on Halloween night by a group of youths. Now, Paul's family are pressing charges against the perpetrators. If you have any information, please go to your year heads or go directly to me. If you have any questions, now is the time to ask. If you have none, go back to your classes”, Mr. Klopp announced.

 

Marco and Paulo stood at the same time. The blonde could see the slight lingering fear that had etched itself into his face.

 

“He won’t name us, he won’t say that he was blackmailing you. We’re in the clear”, Mauro whispered, hugging into Paulo's back.

 

“Everything okay here?”. Of course it was Mr. Lewandowski. Marco cursed under his breath.

 

“Paulo's just concerned – what kind of animals would attack a defenceless person on Halloween? Truly, truly barbaric”, Mauro answered. He was good, very good.

 

“I’m sure we’ll find out who did it. Perhaps it was the same hooligans who slashed Mr. Grey’s windows. Now, go back to class”

 

That smile, that stupid fucking smile that made Marco feel as though he was on top of the clouds, it felt like nobody could touch him. Paulo was the first to get that little grin on his face; he wrapped am arm around Marco's shoulder before they walked back for the chemistry test.

 

“You have a crush, don’t you?”.

 

“Don’t know what you mean. I can’t see Mr. Vardy giving us the test, he spent too long explaining the notes”, Marco shrugged.

 

“You're correct, Marco, you’ll just have it on Thursday instead”, Mr. Vardy shrugged, bag of skittles in his hand.

 

“Sir, you’re not meant to eat in the lab”, Paulo reminded him.

 

Mr. Vardy shrugged again, chewing on the sweets as he walked up to the bench at the top of the room. Marco looked to the seat next to him; it was completely empty, as was the one beside that. Where were Vincent and Eric? It didn’t matter anyway, the bell had just went. As Marco walked out of the room, Eric and Vincent were sheepishly coming back into the lab. Marco shrugged and made his way back to his locker, where he changed his books around. Double religion meant time to start his homework and they were still translating Macbeth into modern English. He grabbed a few of his books that he’d need for homework in the second class of Religion and then he took his lunch.

 

“I’m so bored of this shit", Jack sighed.

 

“Me too, Jack, me too. Least we have double religion”, Marco shrugged.

 

“True, I have to go find Aaron now and apologise because I’ve been a dick", Jack muttered as he took his bag and walked away.

 

Marco was always the last one done with the lockers; the others were already sitting the left hand corner at the back of the lunch hall.

 

“We need a chat”, Mauro announced before Marco even had the chance to sit down.

 

“What now? I swear, every time you open your mouth, pure and utter bullshite comes out", Vincent sighed.

 

“Alright, just because you’re hungover”, Mauro shrugged.

 

“What’s our problem?”, Eric wondered.

 

“We need a story. You know that little cunt is going to talk, which means that we’re all going to be carted down the cop shop. So, what were we doing?”, Mauro wondered.

 

“Easy, we were having our annual Halloween tradition of watching scary films. Aaron burned the masks, we’re fine. There was no blood either. It’s fine, Mauro”, Eric’s voice cracked at the end.

 

“Look at you, turning into a criminal mastermind”, Toni laughed before he bit into his roll.

 

“He’s right, though. We all stick to our story and they can’t prove jack shite", Aaron mumbled.

 

Harry and Luke had stayed remarkably silent on the whole thing; they were glued to Luke’s phone.

 

“Do we actually have to have dirty messages to an old man? I don’t want to see his dick”, Luke gagged, scratching his chin.

 

“But think, then we can send it to his wife and kids and destroy his life, like he’s destroyed ours over the years”, Paulo smirked.

 

“You're all far too caught up in this, why can’t we just do something normal?”, Luke sighed. he dropped his head back to Harry's chest.

 

“Are we really?”, Marco narrowed his eyes before he poked the younger man.

 

“Don’t try that with me, Reus. Surely, instead of waiting for dick picks we could use the messages that we already have. Such as: ‘yes baby, I really want you too. We should meet up.’ We have enough material to stack his life”, Luke pointed out.

 

“He’s right, I don’t want to see his wrinkly old dick", Paulo shivered.

 

“We all know the dick you want to see”, Vincent sniggered.

 

“We all know the dick you want to”, James laughed.

 

Vincent rolled his eyes before he sank back into the seat.

 

“Is anybody else just so worn out? It felt like that week off wasn’t anything. I’m just so tired”, Marco yawned.

 

“I know the feeling, Mar. I almost wish we didn’t have the break. They’re just piling it all on top of us again – I hate to think what those results are going to look like”, Joe muttered, sipping at his bottle of water.

 

The rest of the day passed quickly for Marco. Mr. McClean went on some rant for the first ten minutes and then told them all to do their homework. Marco didn’t question it. He got the majority of his homework finished, save for a little bit of biology studying for the test and French.

 

“I wonder what happened”, Eric whispered as he got the small amount of books that he needed for homework. He spend most of his time daydreaming about Vincent.

 

The boys made their way down to the sports hall and quickly changed from their uniforms to their training gear. Their boots clacked on the floor as they slid in the ground out to the pitch. Both Mr. Lewandowski and Mr. Hazard were placing different coloured cones in a line.

 

“Right, to warm up, you’re going to run chocolate, which is the blue line, chip is the pink and cookie is the white line”, Mr. Hazard called, footing the last cone into place.

 

“Cookie”, Mr. Lewandowski called.

 

By the time they finished, it was starting to rain slightly, more of that stupid mist that just stuck to them as they all moved back to the locker room.

 

“What’s wrong?”, Marco asked. Eric was sitting frozen on the bench.

 

“The police are at my house. They’re waiting for me". It was at that time that a few more messages buzzed in on various phones in the locker room.

 

Marco looked down at his: he had a message from his mam telling him to get the fuck home. Marco quickly grabbed his things and started to move quickly. He had to get home; he knew the story, but he knew how fucked he was.

 

“Everything alright, Marco?”, Mr. Lewandowski wondered as Marco turned to walk out of the sports hall.

 

“Not really, Sir, but I have stuff to do", Marco swallowed before their arms brushed and Marco felt the jolt move through him. Now was not the time, Marco – deal with the police, and then the growing attraction for your teacher.

 

As Marco walked, he caught sight of the frown that settled into Mr. Lewandowski’s lips; there was a dullness in those usually sparkling blue eyes. Marco felt almost guilty. But he pushed his thoughts to the back of his head as he ran. He ran until his heart was stuck in his chest and his vision was blurring in the rain. Only then did he realise how fucked he was if this got out of hand.

 

×××

Eric was sitting, his head buried in his hands, as he felt Vincent's hand apply a warm weight on the back of his neck.

 

“I’ll be fine, ‘Ric, just tell them what we practiced", Vincent whispered. They were the only two left.

 

“What if I fuck it up for all of us?”. Eric was standing up now; his eyes bore holes into Vincent's.

 

“I believe that you can do it, just like you believe in me. It’s a two-way street, Eric".

 

“It’s not, though, you don’t fucking understand”, Eric growled.

 

“Try me, I understand a lot more than you think", Vincent shot back, letting his temper get the better of him.

 

“Do you know what it’s like to be in love with somebody and for them to not love you back?”.

 

“I do, every day of my life for the last year. I ran from him, I shut him out and now he’s the only thing keeping me afloat. Without you, I’m nothing”. Vincent was walking the pair of them into the blue tile walls, their lips inches from each other’s.

 

Eric made the first move. His hand wound its way to Vincent's neck as he brought their lips together; it burned so badly with need and appreciation. Something deep inside Eric’s heart told him how well they fit together.


	11. Chapter 11

When Marco finally made it home, his heart was ripping in his chest, there were too many thoughts in his head and he was worried. Marco walked in the front door and left his bags down by the stairs, then walked down the hall and into the kitchen. Sure enough, two plainclothed officers were sitting at the small laminate wooden kitchen table, two mugs of tea in front of them.

 

“Marco? Are you okay?”, his mother asked. She was both confused and angry – she knew what having the police in your house meant.

 

“Can you tell me what this is about?”. Marco's voice was clear and crisp; he would not fuck this up.

 

“As you know, one of your classmates, Paul Smith, was attacked on Halloween night by a group of teenagers with masks", one of the officers answered.

 

“We had an assembly about it today, but I don’t know what I can do to help. You said it was Halloween night – a couple of friends and I were over watching films in his house. We do it every year”, Marco frowned.

 

“Can you give me a list of names, please?”, the redheaded officer asked as she handed Marco a pen and paper.

 

Marco's heart jumped as he started to reach for the paper. He placed it on the table and scribbled down the names of the others. He handed it back to the woman.

 

“Is that all you need? My son has a lot of work to do”. Marco’s mother was not very cooperative.

 

“That’s all we need for now. Just as it happens, these were the other people Paul named; if their account matches yours, we'll be back in touch. Thank you for your time”, the male officer said before they headed out the door.

 

Marco's mother stood there for a few minutes; her eyes were far away and completely unreadable.

 

“What did you do, Marco?”, she growled.

 

“Not everything is my doing, mother”.

 

“Are you going up and beating your classmates to get attention? Is all of this because you don’t like Roger?”.

 

“Fuck Roger and fuck you, too – you have no clue what it’s like, pain after pain, lies after lies and you not giving a fuck about any of it. You care about you and him, that is it. So I hope the two of you have a happy life together because not everything fucking revolves around him”, Marco all but screamed. He was tired of this, now he was done.

 

“You still have to live with me, I’m your mother".

 

Marco threw daggers at her. He took out his phone and called Eric.

 

“What’s up?”, Eric wondered.

 

“Is it okay if I stay at your place for a while? I’m tired of the people I’m stuck with here". Of course that had to be the time that Roger walked in the door.

 

Marco heard Eric shouting to his parents, as Roger curled a hand around his mother’s waist.

 

“What’s going on?”.

 

“Marco’s leaving. He doesn’t like the company. I was good enough when I was at his bedside for three weeks last year”.

 

“Yes, I love you, you’re my mother. But you need to stop holding that over me – do you even care how that makes me feel? This came into my life out of nowhere. The last father I had didn’t work out too well. So please, just let me get away from this toxicity because it’s burning me alive". Marco held the phone in his hand as he ground out his words.

 

“You always were a dramatic one”, Roger snapped.

 

“You really are as thick as you look. You don’t fucking know anything about me, you won’t know anything about me because you’re just a little cunt", Marco smirked. It seemed that vicious streak in him paid off.

 

“Don’t speak to me like that, you little fag”, Roger growled.

 

“You're homophobic, too? Jesus, mother, you sure know how to pick men", Marco laughed as Eric came back on the phone.

 

“Mam said you can stay as long as you want. Said just to bring earplugs because George is sick again". Eric was definitely smiling, Marco could tell.

 

“I’ll be over there as soon as I pack. Thanks, Eric”.

 

“See you later”, Eric said before the line went dead.

 

“If something happens, or you finally decide to get rid of this wanker, you’ll know where I am", Marco announced before he turned on his heel and walked to his bedroom.

 

Marco honestly didn’t know how long he'd be gone for, so he packed as much as he could fit into the suitcase and the other gear bag that he had. He looked at the text that buzzed in on his phone.

 

Eric: Mammy's gone over to collect you. She’ll be there in five minutes.

 

Marco didn’t bother replying; he focused on packing the clothes, mainly pyjamas, but still. He hated the he was making this decision, but he had to get out. He couldn’t deal with another day of constant arguing, constant bickering and constant fighting. He couldn’t deal with Roger and his idiot ways of just sitting there and laughing at nothing like a mentally deformed seal…except seals are cute, Roger was anything but. Marco dragged his bags down the stairs and left them by his school bag and his gearbag. He opened the door and saw Karen going to turn at the top of the small hill on the estate.

 

“You can’t go”, his mother cried. “You can’t look after yourself”.

 

“I’ve been looking after myself for long enough, longer than you know. I’m 17, I can leave if I want. If anything happens and you need to contact me, fine, but I just need a few days. I have to do this”, Marco shrugged. He was just so empty.

 

“So run away, you coward, break your mother’s heart and walk away from your family”, Roger spat.

 

Marco took one deep breath before he felt his knuckles crunch against his nose. The blood dripped out. Marco took his four bags and waddled out to the car. He placed the four bags in the back seat before he clambered into the passenger seat. His mother was out, banging on the windows.

 

“You can't do this, Karen, you’re not his mother”.

 

“Do you want to go?”, Karen turned to Marco, her blonde hair twisted into a bun.

 

Marco nodded. Karen pressed her foot into the peddle as they sped off, the tires screeching on the tarmac.

 

“Pete's gone – he’ll be gone for a week, it’ll just be the four of us. I’ll get you some ice. Can I tell you a secret?”, Karen smiled.

 

“Yeah”.

 

“I’ve wanted to sock that bastard for the last year, thought you should be the first to do it", Karen grinned as she turned into her own driveway. The whole journey took two minutes.

 

Eric was standing in the doorway; George was in his arms, the two-year-old clapping happily at the sight of his second favourite person. Marco and Karen ferried the bags into the hall of the house before Marco turned to her and gave her a hug.

 

“You’re the best godmother ever. Thank you", Marco whispered, his hug engulfing her.

 

“Do I really have to share a bed with you?”. Eric raised an eyebrow before he took two of the bags.

 

“No, I’ll sleep on your floor”, Marco shrugged as he manoeuvred away from George. Eric had left him down on the floor to play with his blocks.

 

The two of them walked upstairs, then the rain started again, heavier this time. It drowned out the other sounds. Although Eric's locker was a complete mess, his room was clean, tidier that Marco's…minus that one chair by the window that had all of his washing on it.

 

The room was big enough for the blow-up mattress. Eric would make it work for Marco – he meant just as much to him as George did, or his mam. They had been together side they were George’s age.

 

“I punched Roger”, Marco announced, pulling a black sheet over the blow-up mattress. He placed the pillows against the wall.

 

“I kissed Vincent and lied to the police about being there when Mauro kicked the shit out of Paul. It’s been eventful", Eric laughed.

 

“About time. Have you heard anything from Grey? The whole profile thing has been quiet since Halloween. I don't know why”, Marco shrugged.

 

“Maybe if we leave him he’ll get keen? Are you having second thoughts about it?”.

 

“No. Let him burn in a pit of self-pity until he realises that being a cunt doesn’t get you anywhere. I’m sorry about all of this”, Eric frowned.

 

“Don’t be. Coming to your house is like a bloody holiday – I love your mam and George, and you”, Marco punched his shoulder.

 

“Love you, too, Mar”.

 

“Roger’s a homophobe".

 

“Good thing you hit him, then. If we don't hear anything from Grey, we'll message him on Thursday. What do you think was up with Mr. McClean today?”.

 

“I haven’t got a clue – history is going to be weird tomorrow. He’s nice, though, a good teacher".

 

“Do you want to bone him, too?”, Eric teased.

 

“I mean, he’s good-looking; all of our teachers are good-looking. Except Mr. Vardy – he looks like he belongs on Leeson Street”, Marco choked.

 

“And Mr. Lewandowski? He was awfully concerned about you running out today”.

 

“Now him, right there we’ve got the one”, Marco grinned.

 

“Are you boys ready for dinner?”, Karen shouted from the kitchen.

 

Both Marco and Eric grabbed their phones and trudged down the stairs; the wind and the rain were attacking the window panes in the blue-black sky. The smell of cottage pie was beautiful. Karen was standing at the cooker, cutting into the crispy potato layer on top.

 

“If there’s anything I can do, let me know", Marco smiled as he picked up George and placed him in the high chair.

 

“As long as I know you're safe, that’s all that matters. Two of you hungry?”.

 

“Bloody starving, mam”, Eric grinned as he handed her three plates. He took the plastic bowl that had a bit of mince, gravy and spud over to George.

 

The three of them sat down to eat. George was mumbling happily as he ate. Marco was thankful that he had this support system around him. Now he just had another problem: Dealing with the burning feeling inside of him concerning a beautiful teacher. He felt it in his gut, a burning, gnawing sensation that drove him crazy – something would happen tomorrow. But that was tomorrow. Today he could be normal.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Mariothellama and everybody else that I've kept waiting for the last two weeks, there's been veey good reasons for that. It's been rough and the last thing I wanted to do was write, I didn't want to do anything in fact. Sorry about keeping you all waiting but everything will be back to normal this Saturday, my three fics will be uploded at regular times now. 
> 
> Now, a special thank you to two people, you both know who you are, one has kept me sane and functioning through the last two weeks and one as kept me entertained with her beautiful fic ( It's wings of desire, I suggest reading it) so thank you both.

Marco was happy when he woke up the following morning, even if the noise of George's wails during the night wasn't nice. Eric was awake, sitting in his bed.

 

“I dont want to leave, no school", Eric pouted.

 

“But it’ll be fun: we can take the piss out of Grey in maths, get detention in the process and have your mam congratulate the two of us because she hates him", Marco shrugged as he stood up.

 

Karen knew Mr. Grey through the parents council of the school. She had been roped into doing fundraising for the school, because that place was falling down around them. Karen had lost count of the amount of times Grey had hit on her. Eric believed that was one of the main reasons that Grey hated him so much. Marco and Eric held a stagnant conversation as they both got dressed. It was nearly half past seven when they went downstairs; Karen already had George on the floor with a bottle of milk and yogurt pot.

 

“Is he still not eating?”, Eric wondered, going to the fridge to take out their lunches. Marco loved this woman.

 

“He threw up what I gave him last night. I hope this stays down better”, Karen shrugged. Her hair had suds in it from the washing.

 

Once their bags were packed and ready to go, both Marco and Eric sank down onto the chairs in the kitchen table. Both of them had a mug of coffee and two slices of toast in front of them. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad?

 

 

Marco and Eric trudged into the room. Grey was already dragging the marker on the board, its squeal piercing the boys. It was Paul's first day back, too. He was sitting as far away from Paulo as he could, nestled safely between his other bible-bashing friends that took the meaning of Catholic school too seriously. Jack was lying back in his seat, his hands bracing the back of his head. The seat beside him was empty: Granit had gone to visit family in Switzerland, he was missed. Eric and Marco were chatting softly while Luke, sweet Luke, was throwing daggers at Paul and his bashers.

 

“You have five minutes to take down those notes, I will time you”, Mr. Grey coughed.

 

There were various groans as Grey pulled out his phone. Mauro saw his opportunity and seized it with both hands.

 

“You’re not allowed your phone”, Mauro sniggered. His hand was wrapped around Paulo’s underneath the desk.

 

“I’m a teacher, I can do as I please”.

 

“Why must you and your group be such insolent little brats?”, Paul snorted.

 

“Sorry, mister. I forgot you should be in Eton, but you’re stuck with the rest of us scum, as you like to call us”, Luke rolled his eyes. They had been using the same insults since first year.

 

“Pipe down, you commoner”.

 

“Don’t speak to him like that, you pleb”, Paulo growled.

 

“What are you going to do about it?”. Paul was smirking at Paulo. Mauro wanted to rip his throat out.

 

“Speak to him one more time and I will end you”, Mauro growled. Angry Spanish coursed through his lips, it spat like an angry fire.

 

“Icardi, that’s enough. All of you, down to the principal’s office, now", Grey screamed.

 

Marco, who had nothing to do with anything, was now being carted down to Mr. Klopp’s office. Grey was fuming as he stamped, Paul was smirking like always.

 

“What do we have this time?”, Mr. Klopp sighed.

 

“These insolent children will not learn in my classroom; they’re too focused on fighting one another. Until they sort it out, I’m not allowing them back into my class”, Grey snapped.

 

“I’m afraid you can’t make that decision. Boys, you have one more chance: Another breath of trouble, and all of you will face a week of afterschool detentions and a note home to your parents. Everybody in this school is treated equally in this school", Mr. Klopp warned, his voice double-edged. The underlying threat was lingering in the air.

 

“I'd just like to point out that I didn’t do anything. Mr. Grey just hates me because my mother turned him down”, Eric yawned. The room froze.

 

“Mr. Dier, remember that he is still your teacher. Leave your personal life out of it. Understand?”.

 

“Sorry, Sir”.

 

The seven students stood in the principal’s office as Grey paced up and down. Mr. Klopp was staring at him; an unimpressed look had etched onto his face.

 

“Go back to your class. One more chance, each of you”.

 

The group trudged up along, Grey muttering about how stupid the school was. The bell rang just as they got back to their seats.

 

“You can study for your test on Friday”, Grey growled.

 

Marco trudged through the rest of the school day. His third last class was history. Mr. Lewandowski was wandering around the class, checking the paragraphs that they were writing on the effects of Bloody Sunday. Marco was done and resting in the corner; his eyes were half-lidded and his temple was pounding.

 

“Alright, Marco?”, Mr. Lewandowski asked. He took up Marco's paragraph.

 

“Fine, Sir, just exhausted”, Marco mumbled, pulling his hand from his chin.

 

Mr. Lewandowski pursed his lips as he read over the extremely long paragraph. Marco couldn’t even bring himself to be weird and look at his teacher. He was just too tired; he was seeing double of everything. He just wasn’t able for this.

 

“That’s good, but that’s not how you spell parliament, or Nationalist or Sectarian. Now, what’s wrong?”. Mr. Lewandowski was smiling brightly, but concerns was edged into his voice.

 

“I’m fine, Sir, really”, Marco breathed. Was he lying to the teacher or to himself? He honestly didn’t know anymore.

 

The black-haired teacher wasn’t going to let this go, but the bell rang. It caused Marco to wince painfully. Eric took his books.

 

“You can’t even walk”, Mr. Lewandowski pointed out. He was two steps behind the blonde.

 

“You get used to it. Nothing’s changed in a year. I’ve accepted that it won’t”, Marco said as he wobbled.

 

“Do you want me to call home?”.

 

“Might be an idea if I was actually staying there”. Marco couldn’t stop the words.

 

“Do me a favour: If it hasn’t cleared by last class, come to my room. No noise, no class. I’ll sort it with Mr. Hummels”, Mr. Lewandowski smiled. Marco couldn’t help the smile that tugged his lips.

 

“Deal", Marco shrugged.

 

Marco wobbled along to Biology. Mr. Vardy was sitting at the desk in front of the projector, a can of Monster in his hand.

 

“Ran out of Red Bull, Sir?”, Marco quipped. Mr. Vardy could tell his charge was sick.

 

“You look like you could use one yourself, I have spares”, Mr. Vardy shrugged.

 

“If you're offering”.

 

Marco didn’t actually believe it when Mr. Vardy pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk: It was lined with cans and bottles of energy drinks and bags of skittles. Marco cracked the can open the second he was handed it.

 

“You’re definitely the best teacher in this school", Marco grinned. He was lulled into a false sense of energy that wouldn’t last that long.

 

“Wouldn't be hard. Alright, lads, as you all know, you’ve a test tomorrow, so we won’t be doing anything new. Take one of these sheets filled with revision questions and get going. If you don’t finish it, have it done for Friday’s class”, Mr. Vardy called as he handed the pages to Eric.

 

Marco got about half of the human digestion worksheet done in the class; he had to keep taking breaks. The energy from the can of Red Bull had worn off or had yet to fully kick in – he didn’t know which it was. He was going to have fun with that test tomorrow. As the bell rang again, that stupid incessant ringing that made his skin crawl, Marco just shoved his stuff into his bag.

 

“Want me to walk you to Mr. Lewandowski’s classroom? It’s on the way”, Eric whispered.

 

Marco nodded. The pain in his head had subsided a bit, but the dizziness was a major crippling factor.

 

“I can ring mammy to pick you up, if you want”, Eric offered.

 

“I’m fine, Eric; just get me to the classroom, please”. Eric’s heart was in knots as he heard how broken his best friend was. He was tired of all of it.

 

“Everything okay?”, Vincent asked.

 

“Yeah, Vince – can you just go ahead and get me a seat? I have to make a pit stop with this one”. Eric really was the mother hen of the group, he looked after all of them.

 

Vincent nodded before he squeezed Marco’s shoulder as the blonde and Eric turned into the room.

 

“You really should go home", Mr. Lewandowski pointed out. He was sitting behind his desk, red pen in his fingers.

 

“I don’t exactly have a mother at the minute”, Marco barked as he sat down in the seat in front of the desk.

 

“Thanks, Eric. Just give this to Mr. Hummels". The black-haired teacher handed the teenager a folded note.

 

“No problem, sir. Look after him”, Eric paused before his friend and left.

 

The silence was comforting; the only sound was the pen scratching the paper. Marco was staring out the window. He didn't even realize that Mr. Lewandowski was standing at his side.

 

“Marco?”.

 

“Yeah? Sorry, just a bit messed up", Marco chuckled dryly.

 

“I asked, do you want to have a cup of tea?”.

 

“That’d be lovely. Just a bit of milk and a sugar. Sir, has anybody ever told you that you’re, like, the kindest teacher in this dump? I mean, most of you are nice – not Grey, though”.

 

“You’re not the first one to hate Grey; a lot of us don’t like him. I’ll be back in a few minutes”.

 

Marco dropped his head to the desk. Why did his life have to be so complicated? Why him? He thought he had enough to deal with in his dickhead dad, but apparently not. He didn’t know how he was still holding it together. He didn’t think he was – he was starting to unravel at the seams and it was spilling out. Hell, even his tears had dried up into nothing. Marco lost count of time. He was only brought back to life when a white mug was gently placed down in front of him.

 

“You don’t have to answer this question, but what do you mean, you don’t have a mother anymore?”. Mr. Lewandowski was sipping st the tea in his own mug.

 

“We fought about her idiot boyfriend”, Marco shrugged.

 

“Must be hostile”.

 

“Would be if I was living at home – I’m staying at Eric’s for a while. What's the deal with Grey? Has he always been such a dick?”, Marco asked.

 

“Anything we say does not leave this room. He’s just pissed he was overlooked for the principal job. He’s just an idiot. He thinks he’s better than everybody else. He’s just like the rest of us. I saw him marching you down to the office this morning”.

 

“I didn’t actually do anything. Luke, Mauro and Paulo got into an argument with Paul in Maths, Grey marched all of us down to Mr. Klopp”.

 

“Is this helping you?”, Mr. Lewandowski questioned, his blue eyes were piercing Marco’s soul.

 

“Kinda. I don’t know what to do anymore. Ever have a feeling in your gut that tells you that something’s wrong, but your heart tells you to do another thing?”, Marco raised an eyebrow. The painkillers that he had stashed in his bag finally started to work.

 

“I have recently. I still don’t know what to do. Can I just remind you of one thing? Or I’ll shut up, if you’d rather".

 

“Go ahead", Marco smiled. The hot tea was warming his insides as the rain pelted against the window.

 

“Don’t ever think that nobody cares. I remember when I was in your shoes not too long ago. If you want to talk, you can talk to any of the teachers – me, Mr. Vardy, Hummels, Müller or Hazard. Any problems, I’ll help if I can. Things can always be worked through, or you can go around them. It might take longer, but sometimes what’s around is better than what's through".

 

Marco was silent for a few minutes before he went back to mulling over the words. They hit him to the core; his mind started to twist the words into something much more than they probably were. The rest of the class passed in silence and Marco had finished the tea just before the bell went.

 

“Thank you, Sir. I don’t actually know if you mean it”, Marco swallowed.

 

“I'd never lie to you, that’s a promise”. Marco heard as he walked out of the room.

 

His heart constricted and his lungs burned. Did he really have a hope? Because that last forty minutes of his life had made him hope there would be. One thing he didn’t notice was the way a certain blue gaze lingered on him as he walked away.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back people. I am sorry for the long wait but I really needed it. I hope you're all well.

Eric couldn’t sleep. The wind and rain were keeping him up. It was four in the morning; Marco had dropped off to sleep at half past three. Eric was just sitting there. Fridays were meant to be good days, but they didn’t feel like it. Everything had gone well on Thursday, the test was actually fairly easy, but he just didn’t like Fridays. His classes were horrific today, they were just painful: English and French to start off and then he had a break, followed by double History and Chemistry. Then to finish it of it was Maths, Geography and Careers. Marco loved Fridays, though. Eric began to understand why: A double class with a certain somebody he didn’t really mind. Eric spent most of the morning on his phone, watching YouTube or going to get his laptop to watch Netflix; he was just so tired, but he couldn’t sleep. Then at six, George started screaming and Marco shrugged away. Eric was already gone to his younger brother before Marco had woken up fully.

 

“What’re you doing up?”, Karen wondered, holding a bottle of milk in one hand.

 

“What makes you think I’ve been asleep?”, Eric shrugged before he took the bottle off his mother.

 

“You should go back to sleep, you have to get up in an hour”, Karen sighed, frowning at her son.

 

“I can’t sleep, nothing I do helps me sleep. Just like nothing I do gets rid of my stupid anxiety. One of the side effects is insomnia”, Eric reminded her, cradling the whimpering toddler to his shoulder.

 

“Do you want me to ring the doctor again and see if we can get you an appointment to change the meds?”.

 

“What’s the point? I’ll tell you if it gets worse. I’m managing”.

 

“I know you are. You’re strong. Go get in the shower”. The warning wasn’t enough, and in the seconds it took to say the sentence, George had coughed back up the little milk he had swallowed.

 

“Thanks for that, Ma”, Eric gagged before he walked back to his room. Today would be great.

 

Eric honestly didn’t know how he had survived English and French. The worst thing about having a French person as a French teacher was that they were just too passionate about the language. For every word Eric could say in French, Mr. Lloris could say twenty in that space of time. Antoine was the lucky one, French fucker.

 

“You shouldn’t even be allowed to do French”, Vincent complained.

 

“It’s the one subject I’m good at", Antoine grinned, dropping to the floor. Marco tried to not hit his head with the locker.

 

“Please, you’re Mr. Perfection”, Jack scoffed.

 

Antoine shrugged and began piling up books on the floor.

 

“What is his fucking problem?”, Aaron growled. He was staring Paul out of it.

 

Marco gave him a disbelieving look – he was there the night Mauro kicked the crap out of him? He must have had a worse memory than Marco and Granit combined. And that was saying something.

 

“He’s a crazy person?”, Jack muttered, using his boyfriend as a book stand.

 

“Guys, we have a major fucking problem. A major one, like huge, like Texas huge". Luke raced up the corridor, a string of other fifth years following him.

 

“What is it?”, Marco raised an eyebrow.

 

“So you know the way I have a locker beside mine that’s free? Well, somebody that we know has just moved into it”. Harry looked horrified.

 

“The suspense is killing me. It can’t be that bad, who is it?”, Aaron rolled his eyes.

 

“Markka”, Luke whispered.

 

“I thought he moved back to Romania – what’s with everybody coming back? Not that that’s a problem, Vince”, Marco laughed. It was a forced sound.

 

“It gets worse”, Luke muttered.

 

“He’s not...”.

 

“He is".

 

Marco dropped his head to the younger teenager’s shoulder. Why Markka? Markka had plagued Marco since first year. He was in all of his classes, was always sitting beside him, constantly talking and driving Marco’s head crazy and constantly cheating off of Marco’s tests. He was just bad news. Marco remembered one incident where Markka, not that anybody else knew it, was constantly letting off little stink bombs in each of the classes.

 

“I just knew today was going to be dreadful”, Marco whined.

 

“Did you have your little brother puke on you at six in the morning?”, Eric raised an eyebrow.

 

“Shush, Marco, answer this”, Paulo smirked, handing his phone to the blonde.

 

Grey: Hey babe, long time no see. I’m assuming you’re busy with college and all that. I was wondering, do you want to meet soon? I can take a day off and come meet you. I’ll even get you a hotel room

" Fuck off, I'm retiring for the day, I've a stalker. Oh god he's smiling creepily"


	14. Chapter 14

Eric was reciting Sylvia Plath and Macbeth quotes to an uninterested Marco – the same Marco who was texting Mr. Grey through Facebook, even though he was mean to be in Russia. It was November, early enough so the remnants of autumn could be seen, but cold enough for it to be a Christmas night. Marco had been staying here for a little over a week. It turned out that Eric's father's job in Belfast would have to take an extra few weeks, meaning that he wouldn’t have his week break before he went to Cork. Eric didn’t mind, he was used to his dad not being there, but he could see it was taking its toll on his mother.

 

“You're worrying”, Marco sighed as he logged off of Adria’s account, going back to the maths book that was on his lap.

Instead of working at a desk like normal people, nearly everybody they knew used a cut piece of plywood that was sanded and stained to be their ‘work board'. It worked – it meant that they didn’t need desks and they could do it on the bed.

 

“You didn’t hear them last night”, Eric sighed.

 

“I did, I sleep just about as much as you do”, Marco sighed.

 

“Don’t worry about us, boys; we'll find a way to work it out, we always do. Now, I have to go to your nan's for a while, she fell in the shower this morning and I want to get her settled in the house and bring her to the doctor. I’ll be gone tonight. I can being George or leave him here”, Karen smiled, leaning against the doorway.

 

“Leave Georgie. Can I invite the others over?”, Eric wondered.

 

“Fine. No drinking or running around all hours of the night", Karen warned.

 

“Can we get Toni? So he can do my maths homework?”, Marco piped up, gnawing on his pen.

 

“I’m just going to pack a bag and head off. Get their parents to ring if they want to stay the night”. Karen turned on her heel.

 

Both Marco and Eric began to call their friends: Aaron was coming, as were Vincent, Toni, Mauro, Luke, Harry and Paulo. All of the rest of them were too busy, or in Jack’s case, grounded. The boys continued to do their homework as Karen pottered around the house, picking up bits and bobs before she took the car and left. It was still early morning, around ten. Marco and Eric were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to get George to eat. The toddler had gotten over the vomiting bug he’d had, but he was still a bit cagey when it came to eating. But he happily ate the yoghurt Marco spoon-fed to him.

 

“He likes you more than he likes me”, Eric sighed. He was at the sink cleaning up.

 

“No, he doesn’t. I’m a novelty, like a new toy. You’re just, there”, Marco grinned.

 

“Has anybody told you that you would make a fantastic couple?”, Luke grinned, his blue eyes shining with intent.

 

“Sorry, but he’s taken”, Vincent smirked as he walked into the house.

 

“Do you peope not knock?”, Eric exclaimed, before he pecked Vincent's forehead.

 

“About fucking time. I was starting to think you’d never tell us", Harry explained.

 

“Please, you all knew". Eric had a pretty blush on his cheek.

 

“It’s hard to miss”, Toni shrugged as he walked into the house, bag and coat around him. “Whose maths homework am I doing?”.

 

“Definitely mine. It doesn’t make sense – why are there letters in maths?”, Marco whined.

 

“More like how did Grey ever become a teacher”, Toni muttered.

 

“Want food?”, Eric wondered.

 

“Not yet, wait for Mauro and Paulo”, Vincent shrugged.

 

They all settled around the kitchen. Marco, Eric, Vincent and Toni were sitting around the kitchen table. Harry and Luke were entertaining George on the floor; they were lucky enough not to have any homework. Time passed, more like dripped by in a confusing time of maths and French. It was painful. But Toni had this knot in his gut – something wasn’t right. He looked at the clock: It was after 1pm, Mauro and Paulo should be here by now.

 

“Is anybody else worried that the other two aren’t here yet?”, Toni asked, scribbling down the formula for a circle.

 

“Kind of, I’ll ring”, Marco sighed.

 

Neither Paulo nor Mauro picked up their phone. Marco rang again and again until there was loud banging on the door. Eric rushed to open it, and the others followed; thankfully, George was snoozing in his play pen. Both Mauro and Paulo were standing at the door.

 

Except now, Paulo had blood streaming from various cuts on his face and neck, as well as thick ribbons falling from his nose. Mauro was standing beside him; he was fine, but he was fuming. Proof purred in his veins – it spurred him on, it made him almost animalistic. He held onto Paulo for dear life.

 

“I’m going to rip their motherfucking heads off and feed them to their loved ones. Those cocksucking bible bashing cunts. I will burn their fucking house down”, Mauro seethed. It was almost as though a cloud of rage and hatred formed around him. It probably had.

 

“One step at a time, big man. Let’s just get Paulo cleaned up", Eric sighed, shuffling into the downstairs bathroom to get the medical box.

 

When he returned, all of them were sitting down in the sitting room. Paulo was holding a bag of frozen chicken to his face.

 

“Not the chicken, get me the peas. Whose bright idea was it to give him the chicken?”, Eric muttered as he knelt down in front of the trembling boy.

 

“What are you going to do?”, Mauro demanded. Even though he knew that none of the peope around him would harm Paulo, he was like a wolf: he had to protect his pack.

 

“I’m going to clean it up a bit. Can you tell us what happened?”, Eric wondered as Luke swapped the chicken for peas.

 

So Paulo retold the story. He was going to meet Mauro and then they would walk to Eric’s together. On his way to the green to meet Mauro, he was jumped on by three teenagers, one of whom was definitely Paul. They each took their time punching him, kicking out his shins. Their rings had left imprints on his tanned skin.

 

Eric tired to be as gentle as he could, but the antiseptic would always sting as the cloth washed over the small cuts.

 

“He’s going to have to go to hospital”, Toni announced, sitting on the chair.

 

“I’m not”, Paulo growled. He hated hospitals.

 

“He’s right, mi amor”, Mauro whispered against his temple.

 

“Then they’ll call the police and then it’ll just set off more shite”, Paulo sighed, resting his head on Mauro’s shoulder. He was just tired and in pain.

 

“Or you could have internal bleeding and be slowly dying", Toni muttered. That got him a few looks.

 

“But, if mammy finds out she’ll kill them stone dead, nobody fucks with her family”, Paulo whispered.

 

“Then we can get them together. It's the least they deserve, love. They should rot”. Mauro was growling again.

 

“Why? It’s your fucking fault, Mauro. You had to go kick the shit out of Paul, fuck knows who else is on the list. They could be coming after each of us, waiting to catch us by surprise, all because you couldn’t keep your temper in check", Paulo snapped.

 

The pair proceeded to argue in angry Spanish, the kind of Spanish that made Toni want to curl up into a ball because of what they were saying to each other. The others could only guess.

 

“Te odio. Todo esto es tu culpa”, Paulo shouted.

 

Mauro froze, and Toni's jaw dropped; none of the others had any idea what was happening. Mauro didn’t say anything – he just walked out of the house, out into the heavy rain that was falling outside. Paulo wanted to chase after him because he instantly regretted it. He could never hate Mauro – every ounce of his body held nothing but love for the older teen. And he had just ruined all of it. In one sentence. He felt the tears prick at his eyes, burning and painful, like acidic waterfalls that taunted him.

 

“He’ll cool down”, Toni promised as he hugged the trembling Argentine.

 

Paulo just felt empty at that moment in time. But there was enough of his mind still rational enough to call his mam. He’d go to the hospital and he'd lie to the police for the umpteenth time. But there was an unsaid promise…well, it was unsaid until Toni typed it on the group chat.

 

Toni: Paul needs to watch the fuck out because if I see his beady eyed fucking face I will break his fucking nose.

 

James: What’s happened?

 

They left it down to Paulo to type it out.

 

Jack: Motherfucker, he’s dead. He’s deader than dead.

 

They all knew what they had to do. You didn’t hurt somebody in their circle and expect to get away with it. Oh no, the earth would crumble beneath all of them. Paul would crash and burn.


	15. Chapter 15

A week passed. Paulo healed safely nestled between his group of friends. He still was barely talking to Mauro, just enough to get by. Mauro let him have his space. Eric and Vincent went official, to the surprise of absolutely nobody. The football season had well and truly kicked off, one match every Thursday morning. They won, they drew and they’d lost one. Yet they were sitting happily in second place. But Marco was conflicted: while he knew that spending a lot of time with a certain teacher of his was making him happier, he knew how fucking risky it was. One wrong move and both of them were fucked. And it would be his fault. Because he was the one that kept trying to get closer, close enough to a flame that it warmed him, but now it was burning him. He liked it. He'd went back to his mother’s house too. It was time.

 

It was the first Thursday of December. The lads were sitting on the bus, Marco had Paulo sitting beside him pouting. The shorter man was scrolling through his phone, looking at the hundreds of pictures that he had of Mauro. To be honest, it was a bit creepy.

 

“Talk to him”, Marco whispered.

 

“I can’t just ‘talk to him' I told him that I hated him”, Paulo whined.

 

“And now it’s time to fix it. We all know that you just want to make up. It’s time, it’s been nearly a month", Marco sighed.

 

“If we win, I’ll talk to him; if we lose, I’m not apologising”, Paulo pouted before he went back to playing on his phone.

 

Despite everything, quick runs into the box, curious one tows and an abundance of long range shots, one of which went in, they were left with a two- two draw. They’d had to fight for that, the penalty in the 85th minute had sealed the point for them. After they got changed and strolled back to the bus, Eric and Marco spied Paulo and Mauro.

 

“Think we fixed them?”, Eric wondered.

 

“Probably. They’ll probably argue over who gets to take the next penalty”, Marco shrugged. He was hobbling a bit, the back of his ankle was killing him.

 

“What did you do?”, Aaron narrowed his eyes at the older teen.

 

“I didn’t do anything. Somebody kicked me in the back of the ankle. Not my fault. We all known that these people are dirty fucks", Marco muttered before he clambered onto the bus. Eric sat in beside him and Vincent sat on the other seat beside Aaron.

 

“Does it hurt?”, Eric wondered.

 

“No shit, Eric, feels delightful”, Marco's voice dripped with sarcasm.

 

“Sarcasm isn’t a good look on you”, Vincent muttered, he was closing his eyes. He really didn’t want to go back and have French.

 

“You're funny”, Marco rolled his eyes before he rested his head against the cold window pane.

 

The hour long journey passed by slowly. They were meant to be back for the last three classes, they made it for the last one – that’s how bad the traffic was. And his last class was nice and simple. Geography. They all clambered out of the bus, their school uniforms had replaced their kits.

 

“Did yous win?”, Mr. Long questioned, typing up several questions on the computer.

 

“Drew, two-two”, Eric answered as he sat on it his seat.

 

“As dirty as always?”.

 

“Just ask Marco, he’s down at the office getting an icepack”, Vincent explained.

 

Marco hobbled up a few minuets layer and sat in beside Eric, who was scribbling down the questions. There was 30 in total, a mix of climate, soil, fauna and flora in the Biome. Fun. Most of the class was used to take down the questions.

 

“Do those for homework and revise for your test, although this should be enough revision”, Mr. Long called before they all started to pack up.

 

The bell rang and it was a mad dash to the lockers. Marco, Eric and Vincent were all trying to leave the school as quick as they could so they could get home and study for a stupid maths test they’d have the following day. Marco wasn’t interested. He just wanted to get it over and done with, he wasn’t able to deal with it, not with Mr. Grey. Even if you got an A in one of his tests and you got one sum wrong, he’d make you feel so stupid. For days he’d barrage you over that one mistake without even trying to help you once. He was awful, but his day of judgment was coming soon enough.

 

“You all missed Grey going off on one about the worksheet he gave us. He went crazy, basically called all of us stupid and said that if there was a lower level then we should be doing it. Don’t ask me how I kept a straight face because he went all red and splotchy”, Jack laughed.

 

“I honestly hate that man so bloody much. He just wriggles under our skin like worms, burrowing deeper and deeper until they've gone though our hearts", Marco muttered.

 

“Alright, Shakespeare, calm it down a few notches", Aaron laughed as he clicked the lock into place.

 

Marco shrugged before he made sure to grab his notes copy. For once, his bag didn’t need a forklift. He felt like he needed a forklift though, he felt so tired.

 

It was much later on in the night, around 12am, Marco was still studying for the maths test. He just didn’t understand it. There was too many letters. He was terrified that he'd fail it. He was terrified. He hadn’t even started his other homework. He still had English, plus he had a history test to finish off for tomorrow. He worked through the bubbling pain in his head, the same pain that made the words on the page jump at him, the ones that blurred painfully as he tried to memorize the formulas. It didn’t work. It was just after three when Marco gave up, he’d finished his other work but he’d be forced to stop the maths. He fell into a restless sleep, his head couldn’t relax, it was running too fast and be couldn’t keep with it. It pained him even in sleep.

 

When he work up the next morning, it took every ounce of energy to roll out of the bed to get dressed. Everything was spinning but he had to go in for the test. He’d never hear the end of it otherwise. It wasn’t worth all of the aggravation. Nothing was. So Marco dressed himself quietly, took one of the to go breakfast bars and his travel mug filled with coffee and he walked to the school. He knew Eric was coming in late today, something to do with the dentist, so it was just Marco. Before he went around the corner of the street and into the school, he heard a whistle. He didn’t pay attention to it, he just drained back the rest of his coffee as he headed to his locker.

 

His first two classes weren’t that bad, English and French. Then break it was Geography, History and then maths. He knew for a fact that Mr. Long wasn’t in today so hed be able to study for the test again before it. Much good it would do him.

 

“I can smell the stress off you a mile away”, Mauro muttered as he sat on the floor. The joys of a bottom locker, you could sit.

 

“Well sorry, if I get into an argument with Grey I'll probably end up stabbing a pen through his eyeballs. The sooner the better we can expose him", Marco whispered.

 

“I know, soon. I’m talking to Paulo again: I called his mamma and she arranged something for us for the weekend. I love that woman", Mauro grinned.

 

“No, that’s you talking to his mother”, Jack corrected as he walked up to the lockers. He looked like death.

 

“What the fuck happened to you?”, Marco wondered.

 

“I stayed over with Aaron. I haven’t slept yet", Jack yawned. His hand was wobbling around the coffee cup in his hand.

 

 

“I wonder why you didn’t sleep. Where is Aaron?”, Marco wondered.

 

“I don’t have a clue, I realized at like seven I didn’t have my uniform so I had to run home. Haven’t seen him since then”, Jack shrugged.

 

“I’m here now, no fear", Aaron laughed before he kissed Jack on the forehead.

 

“Stop trying to be fancy, you muffin”, Jack smirked.

 

 

Marco sighed. He should probably spend the next twenty minutes revising, but he said fuck it. It was one test, if he failed it, fuck it.

 

Marco had spent all of his geography class going over the material, it still didn’t make sense. He was within an inch of crying in frustration as he walked into the classroom. Eric picked up on it instantly, even with the throbbing from his wisdom tooth.

 

“It’ll be fine. We'll be fine”, Eric smiled.

 

“Sit down and take the page. Answer on your own paper. Start now”, Grey snapped as he sat down in the chair.

 

Marco knew the second he saw the paper that it wouldn’t be fine. His heart was stuck in his throat.


	16. Chapter 16

Marco was shaking with trepidation outside of the maths room. He'd just come from French, where they did absolutely nothing. Marco wasn’t the only one fearing for his life with the result. Eric was curled around Vincent, head buried in the crook of the younger man’s neck as the first years streamed out of the room. Granit, who was back from a lovely holiday to Switzerland, was just an aimless puppy in all of his subjects.

 

“It’ll be fine”, Granit smiled. He was happy for Eric and Vincent. He knew it was well overdue.

 

“Fifth years, get in here and take your seats, now”. Grey was very angry, his words felt as though they burned the skin of his students.

 

“What did we do this time?”, Luke muttered as he took his seat.

 

“Mouth closed, Shaw”, Mr. Grey snarled.

 

All of them were quiet after his outburst, even Mauro kept his mouth shut as the marker squealed against the whiteboard. For the first half of the class, not one word was spoken until Grey had everything written on the board in black maker. Then he turned.

 

“Take that down, don’t speak”, Grey announced as he sat in his chair.

 

They didn’t question it, and with about ten minutes left in the class Grey walked around the room and handed back the tests. Marco’s heart stopped when he got his, it was a C, he was over the moon with it.

 

“Speak to me after class", Grey muttered.

 

Once again Marco’s heart contracted quickly. What did he want now? Marco nodded as he dropped his head to the table, he felt Eric shake anxiously. He heard the same thing said to Eric, who was about to cry when he got the test back. Marco knew it wasn’t going to be good. Just as Grey handed the last test back, the bell went.

 

“Reus, Dier, stay".

 

The others went, though they wanted to stay to support their friends. It was lunch and Eric could taste the tears in the back of his throat. Both of them wanted to bolt, run out the door and never come back. They couldn't.

 

“Both of your had unsatisfactory test results in the class. What do you have to say for yourselves?”. Grey was smirking, as though he got something out of this. He probably got off on other people’s failure.

 

“I got a bloody C", Marco sighed, seriously? Where the fuck did this man get off?

 

“A C isn’t good enough. Mr. Dier here didn’t even get that”, Mr. Grey spat.

 

Marco shook with anger. Every part of his body wanted to lay this spiteful bastard out with a box, but he couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted, Marco just thought about the sweet revenge that was coming.

 

“If you were a bloody teacher and not just an angry man with a god complex, then maybe I might get a better result”, Eric snapped. He was completely done.

 

“Watch how you speak to me, I’m the one that got lumbered with the stupid people”.

 

“I’ll treat others as I’m treated, so you know exactly where you can go", Eric growled before he took his things and walked out.

 

“Get back here, now”, Grey screamed, it pierced Marco.

 

“You deserve it. You’re not very good at teaching”, Marco smirked before he walked away, he shot a fleeting look to the seething maths teacher.

 

“What’s going on here?”. Marco rolled his eyes, was he cursed or something?

 

“Go ask him, he’s the one who just called us stupid", Marco shrugged.

 

“I’ll sort him out”, Mr. Lewandowski muttered as he turned into the classroom.

 

Marco watched his back as he turned, the only thing that broke his stare was Eric dragging him away. Marco stopped at his locker first, he changed his books, his last three classes were simple, History, Religion and Geography. He took the books, and walked with Eric to his own locker. Once both of them were finished they walked to the lunchhall.

 

“So, what happened?”, Luke wondered.

 

“He called all of us thick", Eric shrugged, as he took Toni's copy with the Geography answers in it.

 

“Nice, always knew he was a lovely man”, James growled, he was very protective.

 

“Honestly though, who calls students thick? Like what the actual fuck?”, Harry mumbled before he kissed the side of Luke’s shoulder.

 

“I think there’s bigger problems than Grey", Marco muttered, he was staring at the problem.

 

“What’s he doing now? I will kill him”, Mauro bared his teeth in a vicious snarl.

 

“You’re the one who got us into this mess, you won’t do anything", Paulo sighed.

 

Mauro sighed and his posture became less rigid. But inside his gut was a gnawing need to protect.

 

Remarkably, Marco made it through the rest of the school day without even one inkling of pain in the side of his head; he couldn't remember the last time that had happened. It was also the first night in a long time that he got all of his homework done. But, sleep still eluded him, and what sleep he did get was restless and broken, hot and uncomfortable. Even with it being the beginning of December, Marco was unnaturally hot. He sat by the open window and the icy air and rain ran around his window sill; it was comforting. With the noise lulling him, Marco eased back into broken sleep.

 

The next day, Tuesday, was good. He had his gearbag slung over his shoulder and a bag on his back as he walked through the corridors of the school to his locker. Eric had told him earlier that morning that he had to leave earlier, so Marco walked on his own. It was fine, the ground crunched under his feet as the morning frost turned to withered dew. There was an air around him; he felt happy, he didn’t know why.

 

“You’re very happy today”, Eric smiled. He must have been finishing off his homework, he had chemistry worksheets in his arms.

 

“I know, it’s weird. I didn’t get a headache yesterday, and I don’t have one now. It’s great". Marco was smiling, a genuine happy smile, one that hadn’t stretched across his face in along time.

 

“Keep smiling tiger, you have a certain fish to catch", Eric winked before he turned and walked away after shoving the pages in a locker.

 

Marco faltered for a minute. He felt the blood rush on his face, his grin broadened as he looked at his timetable. He took out the books he needed, then he heard somebody cough behind him.

 

“I’ve something to talk to you about with your essay", Mr. Lewandowski muttered. He had the three double-sided pages in his hand.

 

“What have I done wrong?”, Marco asked, immediately turning to the back haired teacher.

 

“This essay is perfect, you have everything you need. You even managed to make it long enough to answer it as a question on your exam paper. If there’s one thing I’ll say to you, it’s watch your spellings”.

 

“You’re not the first teacher to say that to me, you won’t be the last”, Marco shrugged as he plucked the three stapled sheets from his teacher's hand.

 

“Just a word of advice". Marco watched as the black-haired teacher walked away. There was something about that walk, it was powerful, the air of confidence made Marco weak at the knees.

 

For the rest of the morning, Marco was cheerful, and it was infecting the others: Eric wasn’t as cynical, Mauro and Paulo weren’t as fiery, Joe and Jack were laughing together, Granit wasn’t as broody, Vincent wasn’t as pouty, James was…James was James. But of course the second he walked into Maths, that all changed. Marco’s mood turned to acid, it burned through him. Eric sighed as they took their seats, then Paul threw a paper ball at them when Grey's back was turned.

 

“I know it was you that beat me up. Fuck you all", Eric read. He rolled his eyes before he flipped Paul off and mouthed ‘Fuck off'.

 

“We're staring a new chapter today, it’s all about money. This one better go better than the previous chapter", Grey snapped, nobody had even said a word to him and he was being a dick. Marco blamed Mauro for leading him on as Adria last night.

 

Marco breathed a sigh of relief; he was good with money, very good. When you grew up where he did, you had to be good with it. But he didn’t understand the way that Grey was explaining it – it made so much more sense when Mr. Brady had explained it to him last year in resource classes. The absolute joys of being in 40 days in the entire year.

 

As usual, the first class of a new topic was spent taking down notes that were accompanied by Grey's shitty explanations. Marco didn’t even bother to pack his bag before he fled out of the classroom; forty minutes in close proximity to both Grey and Paul made his skin crawl.

 

“I swear, Imma beat that prick", Mauro growled.

 

“Again”, Jack muttered.

 

“Shut up", Mauro rolled his eyes.

 

Marco rolled his eyes as they nicked back and forth. How did he deal with these people? At least he’d be able to kick out his frustration in training later, after listening to weird stories.

 

After Maths, the day flew, it always did. Marco was just settling down in his seat for religion; Eric was on one side of him, Jack was on the other.

 

“What stories are you going to tell us today?”, Jack called.

 

“None, we’re going to talk about peer pressure and you’re going to fill out all of these worksheets anonymously. I’ve an inspector next week, so act like you care”.

 

Marco banged his head against the table, worksheets? What were they, five? So that’s what they did. Each time they finished one, Mr. McClean handed them out two more, then he went back to his desk and did whatever teachers do as their students slave over pointless worksheets.

 

“Thank fuck that’s over", Jack muttered as he deposited four worksheets onto the teacher’s desk on his way out.

 

“He better not do that to us again, that was abuse", Eric whined. He was flexing his hand, it hurt like fuck.

 

Marco just shrugged, he had this gnawing feeling in his gut. He didn’t know what it was warning him against, all he knew was he felt weird as he swapped out his books woth a renewed vigour.

 

"Why are you in such a rush?”, Aaron wondered as he held onto Jack.

 

“I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right”, Marco mumbled as he reached up on top of the lockers to grab his gearbag.

 

He managed to wait for the others before they made their way down to the sports hall to get changed. That burning feeling in his gut was still there as they walked out onto the pitch, the cones were out again.

 

“Okay, warm up and then we’ll divide you into two teams. Go", Mr. Hazard announced.

 

Marco and Eric jogged with the icy wind. This would be the last fixture before Christmas break. Then once they got back they’d have one a week for the rest of the school year. Once they were warmed up the two bags of red and blue bibs were broken out. Marco was blue, Eric was red.

 

“Don’t break my leg", Marco joked.

 

“Don’t joke about that shite when you’re having mojo feelings", Eric muttered.

 

The aim of the game was simple: whoever scored the most, won. The blues just happened to be winning, Marco had the ball at his feet with Toni and Vincent on either side of him. One swift, defence-cutting pass later, Marco's body thumped into the dew damped grass as he hissed.

 

“Motherfucker", Toni and Eric shouted as he pushed Paul in the chest.

 

“It was an accident”, Paul smirked.

 

“Try that again with a bit more conviction, you little wanker", Mauro snarled.

 

“Break it up, we do not have insurance for this", Mr. Hazard shouted as he pushed the three of them apart.

 

Eric looked down at Marco’s left leg: thin trickles of blood were rolling down his shin from the stud marks. The blonde hissed as he was helped to his feet.

 

“Sort the three of them out, I’ll fix this". Mr. Lewandowski glanced at Paul, who simply shrugged.

 

So Marco hobbled with the help of his teacher to the office of the sports hall. He sat down in the chair as he took off rolls of tissues to wipe away the blood.

 

“Does it hurt?”.

 

“What do you think?”, Marco quipped.

 

“Sorry, very stupid question. Let me have a look".

 

Marco grinned to himself. If it felt this nice to have the darker-haired makes fingers probe his bloodied skin, he’d have to get broken in half more often.

 

“I can clean it out here, bandage it myself and send you on your way – or do what I’m actually meant to”, Mr. Lewandowski shrugged. Blue eyes met hazel.

 

“I have a lot of homework. That takes me out of contention for the game then, yeah?”, Marco wondered.

 

“’Fraid so. This is going to hurt like a bitch”.

 

Marco blinked rapidly at the sight of the bandages and the disinfectant.

 

“Probably not as bad of the year of constant pain I’ve dealt with”, Marco muttered, more to himself but he caught the way his teacher frowned.

 

“I’m sorry”.

 

“Don’t be. I’ve gotten used to it”.

 

Both of them were silent as Mr. Lewandowski finished his work. His hand lingered on Marco’s knee before he looked up to speak again.

 

“You shouldn’t have had to. You of all people didn’t deserve it".

 

Marco stared into those blue eyes. He was in a trance that even the dull throbbing in his leg couldn’t break.

 

“I think I’m about to do something very stupid”, Marco whispered.

 

“So am I but fuck it".

 

The kiss was not at all what Marco expected it to be. It was soft and tender, caring and considerate but something burned behind it. When they broke apart, Marco’s lungs burned. Marco smiled as he stood up, he walked by the stunned teacher, who was quite literally frozen to the spot. Marco didn’t have words, he just hobbled back to the others. Well, he just fucked up, but he liked it. So maybe it was a good thing.


	17. Chapter 17

Marco didn’t believe what happened the day before. It continued to play in his head: he could feel Mr. Lewandowski's lips against his, he could see the burning passion in his electric blue eyes. Marco imagined what he looked like. Still, he tried to push it out of his head. He knew it couldn’t happen again, no matter how good it felt, how soft it was, how beautiful it felt to have a pair of warm lips against his.

 

“What has you so rapt, has a witch told you you’ll be king?”, Eric grinned as they walked into English.

 

“Shush, baby Banquo”. Eric smiled affectionately at the nickname.

 

“At least I didn’t write an essay making Macbeth out to be a good guy", Eric pointed out as they took their seats by the window.

 

“He's a deeply flawed character, but he deserved better. Why is regicide frowned upon but tyrannicide is perfectly acceptable? Murder is murder, no matter who commits it”, Marco argued as Vincent and Paulo sat on the two edge seats.

 

“If that puta doesn’t stop looking at me, I will put him into a pot of boiling sugar", Paulo snapped before he pegged a paper ball at the back of his head.

 

“Fuck off", Paul shouted.

 

“Settle down, Paul. I’ll give you back your essays, we're just going to watch the movie for the next few classes. Don’t forget your Christmas exams are in a week and a half”, Mr. Hummels announced.

 

“What exactly is on our test, Sir?”, Paulo wondered.

 

“I haven’t made it up yet, but a lot of it will be Macbeth”.

 

“That’s very helpful”, Marco laughed.

 

Mr. Hummels shrugged, the black jacket on his shoulders moving like a trickle of liquid. The dark-haired teacher fumbled around with the computer for a few moments before the picture came up on the whiteboard.

 

“Kevin, lights?”.

 

Marco was way too into the film, Eric decided. He was still confused how Marco could make Macbeth out to be a good guy. Eric didn’t see it: he was a tyrant and he was greedy. He got what he deserved. As the film played, Marco got his green hardback back; he immediately opened it.

 

“H2+, Interesting take on Macbeth, good adherence to the question and great links. Just watch the spellings. I loved the power quote.”.

 

“See, I’m not crazy”, Marco whispered as he smirked.

 

“Absolute power corrupts absolutely, unless, of course, your absolute power is a God given right, which Macbeth's, is not’. That's why you got that mark”, Eric coughed. “Teach me how to be smart”.

 

“You’re smart, you’re fairly good at French, a lot better than me”.

 

“Tais-toi”, Eric muttered.

 

“Can we just watch Michael Fassbender, please?”, Marco whined as he rested his hand under his chin.

 

Marco was thoroughly enjoying the film when the bell rang; he didn’t want to move, he wanted to _____.

 

“That's such a shit film", Paul muttered. Marco wanted to hit him in the back of the head so badly – the little prick hadn’t shut up through the entire film.

 

“Maybe if you’d been paying attention you might be able to comprehend it”, Marco crackled.

 

“Bite me, Reus".

 

“Oh fuck no, Lord knows what I’d catch off your nasty ass", Marco smirked.

 

Eric, Vincent and Paulo started cracking up as they headed for maths. Marco laughed at the way Paul went red, then he slowed down in front of Marco and hit his already bruised leg.

 

“Cunt", Marco snarled as he stated to hobble.

 

“Remember, God judges us all". Paul raised his eyebrow, waiting for Marco's come back.

 

“Excuse me, but I think you better look where you’re going", Marco smiled as Paul slapped straight into the wall.

 

They walked the rest of the way to maths. Of course, Mauro and Jack had secured their little bundle of tables down at the back.

 

“Take out your homework and place it on the desk, I’ll be around with the stamper to check that you’ve actually done it". Grey was not taking this separation from Adria very well.

 

Eric wrote a note on a little piece of paper.

 

‘Should we start messaging him again?’.

 

‘Yeah, might make him happier'.

 

Marco quickly took the piece of power and crunched it into his pocket as Grey walked around with his little stamper. Weirdo.

 

“Where’s question nine?”, Grey growled when he came to Luke’s copy.

 

“Maybe on the next page?”, Luke pointed out smartly.

 

Marco was very proud of the little floofer; he wasn’t as anxious when he came here any more. Harry definitely emboldened him. He wasn’t the last ‘soft' member, not anymore.

 

“Journal, get it signed and bring it in and show me tomorrow”, Grey snapped.

 

Luke rolled his eyes before he produced his journal. He'd just get James, the master forger, to sign it. His mamma didn’t need to know – no, because Luke liked seeing Harry.

 

The lesson was a bore, but at least it was the last class before lunch. It was a nice afternoon: Geography, Biology and History. But that would mean seeing him, and Marco didn’t really trust himself; he'd probably overreact and do something stupid.

 

‘Like kiss him again’.

 

Of course Grey piled them with homework, of course he did. Maybe going back as Adria would be helpful; they’d play off the ruse of studying for exams, which had been the main reason Marco hadn’t texted him, nor any of then in that fact.

 

“What’s got you so rapt?”.

 

“Stop trying to be Shakespeare. I am not rapt, I am in pain and annoyed because of the little fucking cunt-faced wanker", Marco snarled. Eric took a step back.

 

“Well, Markka's on his way over here too, smile", Jack made a face before he rested his head on Aaron’s shoulder.

 

“Hi, Marco. Can we go talk somewhere?”. Markka was like an excited puppy, but Marco was not in the mood. No, he was not.

 

“Not right now, Markka”.

 

Marco turned his body back to his locker to get his books; when he turned around, Markka was still standing there, staring with wide brown eyes. Marco shook his head before he walked away. He didn’t know what kind of fire he was playing with, but he was definitely going to get burnt.

 

Marco and the others walked down to the lunchhall, they left Markka standing there. They had things to discuss.

 

“Can I stab Paul?”, Mauro wondered.

 

“No, that’s probably ABH and that carries a prison sentence”, Toni announced.

 

“James, cam you sign that for me?”, Luke wondered as he handed over his journal to the Colombian.

 

James nodded and studied one of the previous signatures for a minute before he signed the bottom of it. Then Toni's phone buzzed.

 

Grey: I need to speak with you, I miss you

 

“Okay, turns out he’s making the first move. Marco, talk history", Toni handed over his phone.

 

Adria: Oh? I’m sorry babe, I’ve just been studying so much lately, what’s the problem?

 

Grey: I want to tell you to reconsider being a teacher, students are so disrespectful. And, my wife is out of town this weekend, maybe we could chat?

 

“He wants to talk this weekend – how has he not found it weird that she hasn’t spoken to him on the phone?”, Marco questioned.

 

“Because he’s thick”.

 

Adria: Maybe, I’m just really busy, exams start in a week and I still have so much to do. I wish I could be there with you though.

 

Grey: Another time, we'll just have to text then babe. I have to go, think about me.

 

Marco was nearly fucking dying by the time he handed Toni back his phone.

 

“I want sexy talk time at the weekend", Mauro announced.

 

“You’re not getting it. Granit? Harry, Luke?”.

 

“No”, all three replied.

 

“I’ll do it”, Eric sighed.

 

This would be interesting, disgustingly interesting.


	18. Chapter 18

The rest of the week was weird. Marco couldn’t find Mr. Lewandowski anywhere; he didn’t go to the football match, which they won 3-0, thanks to Harry and Mauro. Of course, Marco wasn’t cleared to play and by Friday last class, Mental Health, he was still hobbling. Paul was sniggering in the back of the class as Marco sat in beside Vincent, with Paulo and Mauro on the left of him. They were all together in the huge rectangle of chairs, all of the desks had been moved out of the way, there was a CD player in the middle.

 

“Sir, I thought meditation was meant for the prayer room?”, Luke wondered.

 

“McClean has it with his first years”, Mr. Löw replied as he set up the disk.

 

So, they all sat there, Marco with a dull, warm throbbing in the bottom of his shin – they listened to the strange man who spoke with a soft voice and in the background there was nature sounds, birds chirping and water droplets.

 

Eric was lulled into a soft snooze. He wasn’t really listening to the video; he must have heard it a hundred times since first year. Then he remembered something: He had a French test on Tuesday, 400-plus verbs, and Eric had forgotten to learn all of them. The bell couldn’t come soon enough.

 

“I’m fucked”, Eric cried as he speed-walked to his locker.

 

“Slow down, what’s wrong?”, Vincent furrowed a brow before he grabbed the older boy's hand.

 

“Verb test, 400 of them, 4 nights to learn them, so much more homework”.

 

Eric turned his head and he saw the way Marco and Vincent froze.

 

“That's this Tuesday? I thought it was after Christmas”, Marco swallowed.

 

“12th of December. That's Tuesday and then our exams are the week after it. Okay, oh fuck oh fuck, can’t breathe", Eric ducked into the bathroom where there was a crowd of first years.

 

“Get out", Vincent growled. The four tiny people scurried like rats.

 

Eric gripped the sink as he splashed the freezing water over his face, but he still couldn’t breathe. It made his lungs burn.

 

“Hey, ‘Ric, come on, it’s me and Vince here, you’re fine. Breathe with us, one, two, three and out, one, two, three", Marco smiled. Vincent was rubbing a hand up and down Eric’s trembling back.

 

It took him a few moments. A few students stuck their heads through the door, the scowl that either Vincent or Marco sent them was enough to make them run.

 

“I’m okay, I’m okay", Eric turned as nuzzled into Vincent; he needed to be surrounded by some thing that he knew, something warm and comforting.

 

“We'll be fine, we’ve dealt with worse things”, Marco pointed out.

 

“You okay, Eric?”, Granit wondered as he walked in. He ignored the way Vincent tightened his arm around Eric’s waist.

 

“I’m fine now. 400 verbs for French, it’s just after catching up on me", Eric sighed.

 

“Oh yeah, Mr. Lloris is giving one of those on Monday, nobody in my class studied. It’ll be fine. Have fun at the weekend, see you on Monday”, Granit turned and walked out as quickly as he appeared.

 

“You need to stop being so alpha male around him. Can you guys come home with me? Mam's gone to Nanny's for the weekend, she had another fall, she’s taken George. I need to talk to you about something", Eric was still shaking as he took a step out of Vincent’s grip.

 

Both of the other boys nodded before they went to their lockers to grab their books for the weekend. Grey must have been looking forward to the weekend because he didn’t give them any homework. But Mr. Hummels? He gave them a character essay on any of the main or important characters in Macbeth; it was worth 50% of their exam. They walked back in silence. Both Marco and Vincent had texted their mothers to let them known that they wouldn’t be home, they decided that they’d go back to get their clothes just before dinner, which Eric was ordering because he couldn’t cook for shit.

 

“I can stay with you till Sunday", Vincent announced as he walked in, Marco wasn’t that far behind him.

 

“Well, mammy should be back by then. Thank you, there’s something I wanted to ask you both”, Eric mumbled as he added the kindling to the fire.

 

“What?”, Marco sighed as he sank into the cushions. He wrapped one of the thick faux fur blankets over himself as he tried to warm.

 

“Have any of you heard anything more from the police? They haven’t been around here since the second time. Are we in the clear?”, Eric’s voice was so hopeful. It gave them all hope.

 

“Maybe. We burned all of the evidence from Halloween – even if they decide it was us, no evidence, no conviction”, Vincent smiled as he read over the A verbs.

 

“Can we burn these instead? This is just nasty", Marco whined.

 

Over the next few minutes they all complained about the verbs before they got settled down to learn them. Eric got up once in a while to poke at the fire and put more coal on it. They stopped for a half hour break to eat the pizza they had ordered before they got stuck back into it. By the time Marco was finished with H, there was a full throb in the left side of his head. He groaned as he settled back into the sofa, the second he opened his eyes, he regretted it. His vision was doubled and little white spots blurred.

 

“Your meds are in the cabinet with the rest of the shit”, Eric called as he snuggled closer to Vincent, who kissed the top of his head.

 

“What letter are you on?”, Vincent mumbled before he yawned.

 

“J", Eric sighed “I need a drink”.

 

Eric couldn’t stop the words that came out of his mouth. He smiled at Vincent, but he felt so bad. He knew how much Vincent was struggling everyday; he'd had a few set backs, but for the most part it was good.

 

“It's okay, but I don’t think your mam would like you stealing her vodka”, Vincent kissed the top of Eric's head as he flipped the page.

 

“I think chocolate milk will do, want some?”, Eric shrugged out of Vincent's embrace to walk to the kitchen.

 

“Why not”.

 

When Eric walked into the kitchen, Marco was standing there with a glass shaking in his hand.

 

“Y'alright?”, Eric asked.

 

“Nope, but fuck it at this stage. What’s the point? Nothing fucking works anymore. I just, I don’t know how much more of this I can take”, Marco swallowed.

 

“We'll find something that works for you, it’s going to take a long time but it’ll work. I known that you’ve been fucked around left, right and centre, but you’ll get through it. You’ve faced worse odds than these and you’ve survived”, Eric pointed out.

 

Marco tipped his head back, the burn of the tears in his eyes was nothing compared to the stabbing pain in the side of his head. Eric worked quickly as he poured out two mugs of chocolate milk, he headed back into the sitting room with Marco in tow.

 

“These will be the death of me. I actually can’t”, Vincent sighed.

 

They spent the rest of the night learning those stupid verbs, but Marco didn’t. He fell asleep on the sofa half an hour later when the painkillers started working. It must have been a little after 1am when Vincent and Eric sat up and cracked their various, stiff bones. Vincent took the red fleece blacker and threw it over Marco, who was out cold.

 

“Go get the blankets off my bed, I’m not leaving him", Eric whispered as he went to the press under the TV.

 

“Okay”.

 

Eric got to work pulling out various blankets and comforters. He piled them all on the hardwood floor as he took the pillows off of the sofa to use. Vincent returned a few minutes later with the duvet dragging behind him and six pillows in his hands and teeth.

 

“Did you have to get your slobber all over my pillows?”, Eric muttered.

 

“Yes".

 

It took them another while to construct a warm and comfortable bed on the floor. But when they did, they fell to the floor and their eyes slipped shut in ten minutes.

 

**

 

The next day wasn’t great either. Marco woke up last and he still had the stabbing pain in the side of his head. But he didn’t care anymore, he was used to it. Most of the time that pain reminded him that he was still alive. The three of them went back to studying and doing their other homework, though Marco was just making his situation worse 

 

But Sunday, just after nine in the morning, Marco was feeling a bit better, still nauseous but the pain was subsiding. He had been talking to Grey for a little bit last night, but he was not ready for the message.

 

Grey:


	19. Chapter 19

Really, the next week was strange. Mr. Lewandowski was nowhere to be fucking seen, absolutely nowhere. Marco was beginning to worry, no matter how stupid he was being, he blamed himself for it all. But there was one person that was everywhere that he turned – Markka. The boy was everywhere, always sitting close to Marco and the lads at lunch, always being weird and touching Marco. But perhaps the weirdest thing were the notes that were left in Marco's locker. Of course, he had no proof that it was Markka and it could have just been one of the lads pissing him off. Marco honestly didn’t know.

The day had been a normal day. At every chance they got, anybody that did French was studying for the test. See, Mr. Lloris had the two French classes, the second of which included Jack, Toni and Mauro. But they all had the test today; Marco and the ones in his class had it after break. Toni and his lot had it straight after Marco's class. So break was spent in a flurry of verbs and curses.

 

“Ya know what? Fuck it. It’s one test, how much does it matter?”, Toni growled as he scrunched the paper into a ball and flung it into the bin.

 

**

 

“This test is worth 20% of your Christmas examination. You have the whole class to complete it. Do not leave blanks”. Mr. Lloris handed out the test and Marco's head dropped.

 

“Sir, there’s a hundred here though. You said you’d give us fifty”, Marco pointed out.

 

“What difference does it make? You learned 400", Mr. Lloris grinned.

 

Marco ground his teeth. He hadn’t got a fucking clue, but somehow he managed to bullshit his way through the test in a flurry of what sounded English. Hey, it had worked before. But he doubted he passed it. But Marco knew that this could fuck up his Christmas test.

 

“Don’t forget that we have a listening exam tomorrow that also accounts for 20% of your exam”.

 

As Marco walked out of the door, he pulled Toni back.

 

“There's a hundred verbs and it’s 20% of the exam. We all fucked”, Marco told him.

 

“That we are, Mar, that we are”, Toni muttered as he walked into the classroom.

 

Marco and Eric headed down to history. If he was being honest, he wasn’t paying attention as to what was happening in the class; he just knew that a certain blue-eyed enigma wasn’t there. So Marco didn’t bother paying attention to the Apprentice boys and their overzealous behaviour.

 

Marco didn’t pay attention for the rest of the day, he just couldn’t focus on anything, hell, he didn’t get any work done in religion, all he did was colour in his books. Football was over for the time being, but Marco didn’t know what was wrong. It was just weird.

 

Eric struggled too. He was worried about something, there was a nauseous tick in his stomach as he walked home. As he opened the door, George rushed to him. Eric petted his head before he continued to his kitchen, but then his phone went mental in his pocket.

 

“Who's died?”, Karen joked darkly as she put on the kettle.

 

Eric slid his bag off his shoulders before he took his phone out of his pocket.

 

Luke: Who the actual fuck. Who do I have to kill?

 

Toni: In the name of love fuck Jesus, Granit what fucking happened.

 

Granit: Cunts jumped me from behind, one of them is spliced on the hand. I can’t fucking go home like, Taulant will kill somebody.

 

“Mam, I need you to fix up Granit. No questions asked”, Eric glanced at his mother.

 

“Okay, tell him to come here", Karen sighed as she stirred her tea.

 

Eric: Come over here, Gran, mam'll fix you up.

 

It was a few minutes before Granit saw the message and replied.

 

Granit: I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten.

 

Eric sat on one of the stools in the kitchen gingerly. It had to have been fifteen minutes before Granit knocked on the door. And when Karen opened it, she felt angry.

 

“What happened, who did this?”, Eric’s mother wondered.

 

“I haven’t got a clue, I was walking home and a group of people started chasing me and hitting me”. Eric knew Granit was lying. It was definitely Paul and his lackies.

 

Eric watched as his mother cleaned out the various cuts and stitched the wounds, joys of being a health care assistant. Eric sat there, he didn’t say a word as Granit winced and whined.

 

“Look, I’m not going to ask you what’s happening, but if I have to march one of you down to the cop shop for beating somebody half to death, I will. Now, go home Granit, explain to your mother and your brother what happened”, Karen sighed.

Eric knew that his mother was annoyed at him, but Eric didn't care. If she found out everything about Paul, she'd march over to his house and throw a petrol bomb though his window. Karen was a mamma bear, nobody fucked with her cubs. Karen stared at Eric when she heard the front door close.

 

“What the fuck are you involved in, Eric?”.

 

“It’s not gangs and it’s not drugs, I promise, mam. I just, everything is complicated. I don’t even know what’s happening, first it was Paulo and now it’s Granit, who’s next? Me? Marco? Toni? I don’t fucking know anything anymore, I don’t have control over anything”, Eric cried.

 

His mother tried to wrap an arm around her son, but Eric just broke away from her and fled; he ran out of the house, but he was in no state to be on his own. So Karen called Marco, and if he couldn’t help, then she’d call Vincent. Marco picked up on the second ring.

 

“What’s wrong, Karen?”, Marco hummed as he scribbled down some of his English notes.

 

“It’s Eric, he’s ran out of the house on the verge of a panic attack. Look, I don’t know what all of you are mixed up in, but it’s not good for any of you. Please, for your sakes, stop whatever you’re all involved in”, Karen pleaded.

 

“I think I know where he is. I’ll talk to him, make sure he’s safe”, Marco promised before he hung up.

 

Marco moved quickly, he ran to the green area of their estate; he hadn’t been there simce their results, so of course Eric would go back to where everything had started. He saw Eric, sitting with his head resting on his knees and tear tracks on his face, the icy December wind blew around them. Marco didn’t know which rattled him more, the sight of his best friend shaking as he sobbed or the wind. The wind was unnatural.

 

“Eric, please, talk to me”, Marco sat in beside him, he wrapped an arm around the other blonde. Eric moved closer into his embrace.

 

“I can’t do it anymore, Mar, I can’t. My head is already wrecked, I’m a wreck, I can’t do this whole thing of worrying about who is going to be attacked next because of one stupid mistake. I can’t help fearing what’s going to happen with the whole Grey thing, I worry about everything, my meds don’t work anymore and I’m being worn down and broken and I’m putting myself back together arse ways. I’m fucked. I’m lying to my own mother because I can’t tell her that I was there Halloween night, what do we do? Eveything I seem to be near dies or leaves, I haven’t seen my fucking father since when you were staying, hell, I don’t even know if he’s alive”, Eric cried harder, the tears burned like fires on his icy skin.

 

“I know, ’Ric, I should have figured this out sooner, I should have been better to you. You built me back up last year, you kept me alive last year, Eric, you mean something and I’m sorry about this whole Grey thing, it’s my fault, I’ve been the one doing the majority of the talking. It’s over now, we have what we wanted, we can keep it there to use it whenever. You’re not broken, Eric, you’re you. And I need you, Vincent needs you. Granit, Luke, Harry, Mauro, Paulo, Toni, James, Joe, Jack, Aaron and Jack, they all need you. You complete us – how would we cause half as much trouble if we didn’t have you?”.

 

For the next few minutes, the pair sat there, huddled together in the icy wind.

 

“Thank you. I just have no control over anything anymore”, Eric whispered.

 

“You’ll get that back. You’re the beacon of light that we all have – no matter how bad things get, you smile, you laugh and you help us get through everything. I’m not going to speak for the others, Eric, but I love you, you’re the brother I never had. I’m so thankful I threw my bottle of milk over you in Junior Infants”, Marco laughed.

 

“I love you, too, buddy”, Eric smiled, and for the first time in a long time, the smile wasn’t fake.


	20. Chapter 20

The rest of the week passed so fast, it was all a blur of preparation for the exams. And Marco was screwed. They all were. Monday was horrific: a study period before French and then History. Marco just wanted the ground to swallow him up as he sat into the plastic seat in the activities room. Eric was beside him and they were all in a cluster like usual.

 

“You okay?”, Eric wondered as he sat down beside Vincent.

 

“I’m fine, love, stomach is just a bit rattled”, Vincent breathed.

 

“You'll be fine”, Marco yawned. He hadn’t got a lot of sleep the night before.

 

“Who’s keeping you awake?”, Eric teased.

 

“Netflix”, Marco sighed as he drank from his travel mug that was still filled with hot coffee that he had gotten from the canteen.

 

“Oh, anything good?”, Vincent scratched the side of his neck.

 

“Bits of everything, Dorian Gray, Can’t Pay We’ll Take, the usual”, Marco muttered.

 

Just as Eric was about to give out about Marco’s choices in TV, Grey strode into the room flanked by Mr. Vardy and Alonso.

 

“Sit down, now”, Grey screamed over the activities room that was filled with students that were either talking or studying. They all froze.

 

“Useless cunt”, Luke laughed.

 

Harry sent Luke a warning look, Mauro and Paulo nearly pissed themselves laughing at the other teen. None of the teachers seemed to notice, so Mr. Vardy started to speak.

 

“You have an hour and a half study period before the exams start. I want to take these last few minutes to tell you that these tests are nothing to stress over and they are not worth the tears that I know some of you have already shed”. Marco pinpointed the exact moment that Grey wanted to throttle his head teacher.

 

Marco scrubbed a hand over his face and wiped the remaining exhaustion from his eyes before he went back to sipping his coffee and staring at French. The coffee was bitter on his tongue as he studied, and soon, he ran out of coffee half way through his study period, by which time he had switched to History. He had to learn those dates, and Mr. Bale was unpredictable when it came to tests. Marco was scanning through each of them and the next thing he knew, the bell rang to signify little break.

 

“Fuck this crap, I don’t care about Italian”, Paulo whined.

 

“Try learning French”, Vincent rolled his eyes at the Argentine.

 

Paulo, as mature as ever, stuck his tongue out at the Dutch teen before Mauro clipped him around the ear.

 

“Don’t be rude”, Mauro gave Paulo a look of distaste.

 

“At least I didn’t call a teacher a useless cunt”. Luke rolled his eyes at the edge in Paulo’s voice.

 

The group fell silent as they watched Granit walk in, his face a mixture of purples and yellow. They all sent the nastiest look over to where Paul and his cronies were sitting back.

 

“Fucking swot cunts”, Eric growled.

 

“And you say I’m aggressive?”, Mauro raised an eyebrow.

 

“He’s aggressive with words, you beat the shite out of him”, Paulo growled in his ear.

 

“He deserved it, he hurt you – and anybody who hurts you, gets fucked up”, Mauro smiled.

 

“That almost sounded romantic”, Paulo rolled his eyes.

 

“God, you two are weird. Can we focus on beating the shit out of bloody Paul?”, Luke growled. This prompted a look of confusion form the others.

 

“Dude, what’s up with you?”, James wondered.

 

Luke shook his head, he wasn’t going to talk about that with so many people around, not yet anyway. Harry went to open his mouth before the bell rang again. Marco rubbed his eyes, he was fucked for French.

 

 

**

 

The exam was absolutely horrific, hopefully the reading comprehentions would carry Marco through the test. The second the tests were collected by the teachers, Marco turned to Eric.

 

“We’re fucked”, Eric laughed.

 

“Be grand, you heard Mr. V: we fail, we fail. I’m more concerned about Luke”, Marco whispered.

 

“He has been acting strange, but just lie through your teeth and pretend that everything was alright”, Eric mumbled as the others dragged their chairs over.

 

They spent the rest of lunch talking about the exams, but Marco couldn’t help the knot in his stomach when he glanced to Luke. He hadn’t got a clue as to what was going on with his friend, and by the looks of it, Harry didn’t know either.

 

They all had settled for the impending doom of History; even though Marco loved it, he could never get enough written, and he feared what it would be like now. But of course, they had Mr. Bale handing them the photocopied sheets. Marco cursed when he saw the five essays, he nearly cracked. Why did he have to get the shittest essays ever? He picked two at random and started writing, he barely knew any of them. Fuck his life.

 

Marco slumped into his chair when the exams were taken up, he was cursing under his breath. He glanced over to Eric who was also frowning as he wrote with pace that Marco had never seen, so much for passing history.

 

**

 

“Marco, what do you think is wrong with Luke?”, Eric wondered as they walked home together.

 

“I don’t know, but I don’t think Harry knows either – when is it like Luke to not tell Harry something?”, Marco sighed as he pulled his jacket up around his neck to fight off against the icy wind.

 

For the next two days, the lads worked as hard as they could over their final five exams. Marco was exhausted, but somehow he managed to get through them migraine free. Not headache free, but migraine free. They were exhausting and annoying but they were over now. Now they were over and they could look to spend the next two weeks off relaxing – and trying to find out what was wrong with the various members of their friendship circle, because something was definitely wrong with some of them.


	21. Chapter 21

Christmas was always a weird time for Eric. For a long time he was one of the only people to have his dad with him, now his father had moved back in with his grandmother, he came to see them once a week. But Eric didn’t really want to spend time with his father; he was a mammy’s boy, he’d always take her side. But Christmas was a blur, a blur of late nights, not sleeping and anxiety, he spoke to the others a lot, that’s really all he did, that or Netflix, or both at the same time. He was lying to himself every time that he said he was fine, he wasn’t. He was slowly wearing himself out, and it was worrying Karen. Eric was ready to go back to school, at least then he had something to do, no matter how much he hated it.

 

So, on Monday 8th of January, Eric walked to school with a poker straight back and a smile that would fool anybody into believing that he was happy. A few of the others were already at their lockers, slugging books and frowns. Granit was standing there, his face had healed very well, the two weeks was long enough for all of the bruises to fade and the cuts to heal. But Granit wasn’t fixed, but nobody needed to know that. Nobody needed to know that he lay awake at night thinking of the pain and pressure, thinking of the blood and tears that he could still taste on his tongue, they didn’t need to know that.

 

“You okay?”, Eric wondered.

 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just can’t wait to get rid of some people, I’m not bothered entertaining them anymore”, Granit muttered.

 

“I feel you there, mate, fuck these bitches and their whininess”, Eric snorted.

 

Marco turned up a few minutes later, he was fuming, and his jaw was set.

 

“I swear to the love fuck, I am going to rip the head of Markka and shove it so far up him, he won’t be able to walk or sit for a year”, Marco snarled as he unlocked his locker, several pictures fell out onto the floor.

 

“What the fuck?”, Luke muttered as he stepped over the pictures of Marco’s house.

 

Marco and eric turned their heads as Jack, Joe, Aaron, Antoine, Paulo, Mauro, Luke, Harry and Toni opened their lockers, more pictures fell from the old wooden structures.

 

“Nah, fuck this shit”, Vincent mumbled, he was he last one to open his locker. More pages fell out.

 

“Looks like you need to clean up”, Paul laughed as he skirted by them, a large smirk on his face.

 

“Was this you? Why did I even bother asking you that, of course it was you. See, there’s a difference between us: you’re a cuntish coward who thinks he can scare us, but we don’t get scared. So, run along you insufferable cocksucking bible-bashing bastard”. Luke’s voice was dangerously low, but it cut deeper than any wound ever would.

 

The group watched as Paul’s jaw set and he squared up to Luke, which was very funny, because Luke had another head on Paul, Harry couldn’t contain his laugher.

 

“You’re dead, Shaw”.

 

“We all die eventually, and I don’t plan on letting a little fucking pip with a nineteen fifties mindset be the thing that offs me”, Luke rolled his eyes, a firm smirk was plastered on his face.

 

“I want to break your fucking teeth”.

 

“Go on then, I fucking dare you to. See, the second you or your grubby little friends touch any of my friends, you’ll be starting something that you wish you had never done”, Luke threatened before he turned. He heard Paul curse under his breath as Paul stormed off.

 

“What the fuck was that?”, Harry coughed.

 

“That prick needed to be taken down a peg”, was all Luke said.

 

For the rest of the day, Harry kept a close eye on Luke, but he really didn’t want to push the matter anymore; whenever he brought it up, Luke would shut down and completely ignore the subject. But now they were walking home together, like they always did.

 

“Love, what’s wrong?”, Harry wondered as he slung an arm around Luke’s waist.

 

“Nothin’”, Luke muttered.

 

“Really? Because there is obviously something wrong there, mate”, Harry rolled his eyes.

 

“Fuck off, Harry. Leave me alone”, Luke scratched a hand through his hair.

 

“Hey, Lukey, come on love. Talk to me”, Harry pulled Luke to the park bench that was beside them.

 

“I got a letter”.

 

“Care to explain it a bit more?”, Harry quirked a brow at the younger boy.

 

“It’s at home. You need to read it to believe it”, Luke frowned before he stood up.

 

“Come on then, it hurts me seeing you like this", Harry whispered before he pressed a kiss to Luke’s hairline.

 

“I love you”.

 

Harry smiled before he kissed the top of Luke's head again. They walked back to Luke's home in silence, his mam was still in work and so was his dad. Luke unlocked the door, his keys rattled as he pulled them from the lock and pulled down the handle. Luke walked with Harry straight up the stairs and turned into his bedroom. Harry sat on Luke's bed and watched as Luke rummaged through his bookshelf silently.

 

“If this doesn’t scream Paul, I don’t know what is", Luke shook as he handed Harry the printed letter.

 

Harry read it, his blood boiled and burned like acid was flowing through his veins. It gave him renewed life, something to fight for, because he'd never stop fighting for Luke. Harry's breath caught in the bottom of his lungs.

 

“Lukey, come here", Harry breathed as he dragged Luke to his lap.

 

“I don’t even feel safe in my own home, what if he tries something?”, Luke whispered as he rested his head on Harry's shoulder.

 

“I’ll tear him down and burn his fucking life before I let him touch you. He's gone too far. I will kill him, he won’t touch you. I promise”, Harry vowed.

 

Luke turned his head and caught the older boy’s lips in a heated kiss, one of his hands was tangled in Luke's hair, the other was curled around the exposed skin of his hip. They moved back towards the pillows as Luke started to unbutton Harry's crisp white shirt.

 

“I fucking love you", Luke breathed before his lips sealed over Harry's.

 

**

 

Marco had a problem, he really did. He had laid eyes on Mr. Lewandowski three times today and his lips tingled and his stomach knotted. Marco caught sight of the way the teacher's blue eyes caught sight of him, studied him, watched him. Marco loved it. They hadn’t actually spoken to one another, but Marco would wait until training tomorrow.

 

Yet, that wasn’t the start of his problems. The pictures and the notes had been, the constant harassment on social media by Markka was a problem. It seemed that Marco was surrounded by problems.

 

But for the rest if the week Marco was always surrounded by one problem or another; he was in pain, angry and ready to fucking hit something because he was so fucking done with everything.

 

Overall, his conversations with Mr. Lewandowski steered clear of the kiss they shared, and Marco was fine with that. It was a silly little mistake that shouldn’t have happened.

 

Even Luke seemed to be a little bit happier, but now it was Harry's turn to be absolutely menacing. Any chance he got, Harry was sending daggers Paul's way as well as aggressive notes stuffed in his locker. Paul deserved it all. None of Harry’s friends were willing to stop him, but they were all willing to defend him whenever Paul would lose his cool and shout in the corridor.

 

Grey, Grey was a different story. Marco hadn’t spoke to the man since he had received the picture before Christams break, but it was very hard to look his maths teacher in the eye when you’d seen his dick in his hand.

 

However, none of them were anxious about the test results. They were a means to an end and actually counted for nothing. Plus, if they failed, they failed. They had a semester and a half to get ready for the exams. Though most of them would still probably leave it until the night before the exams.

 

Now, now they were sitting around the back corner of the lunchhall and Harry was taking his frustrations out on the a paper that he had got back for English. He’d got an A in it but now he was drawing on it. What was the point in it anyway? An essay on comparing ‘Mirror to ‘Elm’, what good was that to him in the real world? Harry would have left school by now if it wasn’t for his mother. She didn’t want her son to fall down the rabbit hole of their estate, the one she had fallen down.

 

“Harry, leave the poor essay alone”, James sighed before he peeled his orange.

 

“Okay, Luke was acting weird, now you’re being strange, we’ve had notes left in our lockers. What the fuck is going in?”, Eric muttered as he bit off the head of his banana angrily.

 

“There was a letter. It was just all sorts of weird and it said it was watching me, the ‘I am coming for you'. Like you Motherfucker, I’m paranoid enough”, Luke answered.

 

“This really is getting out of hand”, Jack sighed.

 

“It's only the start though. He's getting off on hurting us", Toni pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but we just have to land the kill shot", Marco reasoned, his eyes moved to where Paul was sitting.

 

“Then that's what we do", Vincent smirked.

 

‘So much for not doing anything irrational’, Eric thought.

 

The weekend was a flurry of planning what to do to Paul and his friends, although they had decided that Mauro and James were not allowed to put forward any ideas. No they were not. Marco lay awake at night trying to figure out what he could do; little did he know, danger lurked right outside of his door.


	22. Chapter 22

It was Tuesday. Marco was running drills with the team after school. All of the anxiety he had felt over the holiday had vanished, he started to question if it really existed. But then Marco’s head snapped to where Eric was, they were doing two v two in front of the goal when he heard Eric howl.

 

“What the fuck, Paul?”, Eric screamed as he held his shin.

 

“It was an accident”, Paul dropped his head, but Marco could see the smirk blossoming on his face.

 

“That’s the second person you’ve hacked down. Go home and don’t come back until you stop injuring people for the fun of it”, Mr. Hazard slammed.

 

Paul nodded before he took off, he pushed passed Marco with a growl. Eric was back to his feet again. Vincent was his support.

 

“Marco, may I speak to you for a moment?”, Mr. Lewandowski called as he walked over to where the blonde was standing by the bottles of water.

 

“Depends on what you ask”, Marco mumbled to himself as the black-haired teacher reached him.

 

“I’ll ask you once, what is the problem between you and your friends, and Paul?”, the blue-eyed teacher wondered.

 

“I’d rather not discuss that at the minute, but there is something I’d like to talk about”, Marco made a face that had the teacher scratching at the back of his neck.

 

“That never should have happened, I’m sorry if I led you astray or if it hurt you. It was not my intention”, Mr. Lewandowski apologised.

 

“But you didn’t, that’s the thing. I kissed you and then you ran away for two weeks. Was it that bad?”, Marco joked, but the teacher knew he was deflecting.

 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was great. But it can’t happen again, do you understand? And you can’t tell anybody”.

 

“Because I’m really going to go and scream it to fucking Paul or Grey that I shifted a teacher. That’s a sure fire way to get a prison sentence for you and an expulsion for me. And I like having my friends here”, Marco smiled as he bent down to place his water bottle back on his jacket.

 

“If you want to talk though, feel free”, Mr. Lewandowski clapped a hand on Marco’s shoulder and walked away.

 

**

 

Eric: What did Mr. Fit want with you earlier?

 

Marco: Mr. Fit?

 

Eric: Mr. Lewandowski. You were drooling over him talking to you, while I was rolling on the floor I’d like to add.

 

Marco: No I wasn’t, you tend to roll around by the way. By the way, he asked me about Paul. Oh I can’t wait to see his face tomorrow. He’s such a knob.

 

Eric: Yeah, but that won’t be good for us. Those notes really fucked me up Mar, he’s fucking watching us.

 

Marco: I feel bad for Luke, he was the first and he was too scared to come to us. Hey, what are you up to the weekend?

 

It was a few minutes before Eric responded.

 

Eric: Nothing, what do you have planned?

 

Marco: I was thinking about getting all of the guys at my house, pizza, probably a few drinks to discuss the topic of Paul and Grey. Because we can’t keep going on with this.

 

Eric: I speak for Vince, we’ll be there. It’s damaging all of us, Paul is tearing us apart. Text the lads, see what they say.

 

So that’s what Marco did, he put the message into the group and he got some sort of positive response. His mother was going off with Roger this weekend, so he’d have the house to himself for him and the lads to discuss this freely. Because they needed to talk about it.

 

**

The rest of the week passed in a blur of bullshit, hate and anger on Marco’s part. Markka was following him, texting him – where he got his number, Marco had no fucking clue how – he was loitering around the estate, every time Marco went to the shop for milk or bread, he was there, standing staring. Friday didn’t come fast enough.

 

They were all sitting around Marco’s sitting room, it was a tight squeeze but hey, they all needed to be there.

 

“What do we do?”, James wondered.

 

“We make a decision, we can send his wife the picture now, or wait”, Marco sipped on his tea.

 

“Send it now, wreck his life so we can focus on dealing with Paul and his bullshite with beating us down”, Jack growled.

 

“Okay, you, Luke and Mauro aren’t allowed to speak anymore because y’all just want to burn his house down”, Eric sighed.

 

“You telling me you don’t?”, Mauro raised an eyebrow and he wrapped an arm around Paulo’s waist.

 

“Not if he’s still in the house. I am drawing the line at murder, at the minute”, Eric muttered.

 

“We are not killing anybody. Oh my god, people, listen to yourselves. Sure, we can wear him down and make him feel the fear he’s made us feel, but do we need to physically hurt him?”, Joe mumbled as he rested a hand over Jack’s.

 

“He beat Paulo, he beat Granit. He has pictures of our homes and of our families. He has stalked us and hurt us. Are you telling me that you’ll let him away with a slap on the wrist? Bitch no, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth and I ain’t Shylock, when I take my pound of flesh, I’ll take all the blood I fucking want”, Luke growled, his blue eyes were on fire.

 

“Jesus, calm down”, Harry breathed.

 

“No, if none of you want to help me, I’ll do it on my own because he has taken enough from me. He threatened my mother, my father. He threatened each and every one of you”, Luke pointed out.

 

“Why don’t we go to the police”, Granit wondered.

 

“Do you realise where we live? The cops don’t care, they’d love to see us take each other out”, Aaron announced.

 

“He’s right. We’re on our own and I’m not telling my mother this, she’d have a heart attack”, Eric mumbled as he rested his hesd on Vincent’s chest.

 

“My momma would run me right down to the cops if she realised I had anything to do with what happened to Paul. Even if she hates him and his family”, Paulo scrubbed a hand over his face.

 

“Since killing him and hurting him is out of the question, what about psychological torture? Because something has to happen to him”, Jack mumbled.

 

“I’m down with that”, Marco smiled “Toni, find out what you can. It’s time to let this bastard sweat”.


	23. Chapter 23

They planned for hours that night before all of them walked away. It was dark but it didn’t matter if they were attacked: They’d fight back with a vengeance, they had no fear anymore. They were devoid of every emotion and voice in them that told them that it was a bad idea. They didn’t care anymore, they were all done. But now, it was just Marco and Eric sitting in the sitting room. The fire was lighting, it soared and crackled as the flames jumped higher and higher. Marco had his phone on his lap and his fist was clenched.

 

“Havin’ second thoughts?”, Eric mumbled from where he was sitting on the other sofa. He was playing angry birds or some shit like that.

 

“No, more like thinking”.

 

“About?”, Eric prompted.

 

“What will he fear? Will he feel relieved? Do you think he even cares? We know that he’s cheated on her before, but do their kids know? If you were him, what would you do?”, Marco’s voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke, it made Eric shiver.

 

“If I was him I wouldn’t be taking to a girl that’s thirty years younger than me, first of all. Secondly, what the fuck do you care?”.

 

“I want him to feel so alone, I want to wreck his life like he’s fucked ours up for the last four years. He deserves more than this, but I think wifey deserves to know what her husband does when she goes to bridge club”, Marco laughed as he hit send on the message that he had prepared. “It’s done”.

 

“Good, Monday is going to be fun”. Eric seemed to be the only person in their group that had a conscience.

 

**

 

It was all over the school Monday morning when Marco walked in, everybody was talking about. Some of the lads lived near the old teacher, they saw his wife throw his clothes and his beloved golf clubs. Marco had some sort of malicious smirk on his face as he listened to Paulo and Mauro retell the story.

“Y’all know what I’m going to do in maths, right?”, Luke smirked.

 

“Poke the bear?”, Eric raised an eyebrow.

 

“Of fucking course. I am finished with all of this good boy bullshit. You all ready to see the crazy side of Luke?”, Luke ginned.

 

“How about we don’t refer to ourselves in the third person, because that’s gonna land you in jail”, Jack snorted.

 

“Shut up, you little midget”, Luke laughed as he punched his friend in the shoulder.

 

“What the fuck?”, Marco breathed as he opened his locker.

 

Inside, Marco looked at the locker. It was the exact same as it had been yesterday, three levels: the bottom two were filled with books, the third was where Marco kept his lunch and coat. But now there was a box of chocolates left in the side.

 

“That’s fucking weird”, Vincent breathed.

 

Marco felt the hairs on the bottom of his neck stand up; he turned his neck and he saw Markka standing at the bottom of the corridor, a smile on his face.

 

“It’s free chocolate, though”, Joe laughed.

 

“True, I know what I’m having for lunch”, Marco grinned as he got his books.

 

The day was relatively boring, but Marco knew that something was up with the teachers; news spread like wildfire in this school. They were on edge, but somebody that looked like death personified – Grey. He had bags the size of somebody going back packing and he just looked so tired. He deserved it, though, he was a cunt.

 

“How are your golf clubs?”, Luke remarked snidely.

 

“What?”. Marco almost felt bad at how tired the older man sounded. Almost.

 

“How do you do the sums?”, Luke smiled.

 

“Look at your book and it will tell you, Shaw”, Grey snarled.

 

“I see you're still a cunt, no wonder she left you", Mauro muttered.

 

“Do you know what? Fuck this shit. Fuck your inconsiderate thick arses. You’ll all be lucky if McDonald's takes you. I’m done. You can teach yourselves from now on", Grey shouted as he thrashed the room.

 

Of course the phones were out, they videoed the teacher's breakdown and pissed themselves laughing. Steo one, Fuck up Grey's life, was complete.

 

“Sir, you're causing a disturbance to the class, perhaps you should go to the principal’s office?”, Marco called, a smirk plastered on his face.

 

“You wait, you just wait, Reus. All of you, wait and see", Grey screamed.

 

“Mr Grey. Are you threatening students?”, Mr. Brady wondered.

 

“Fuck back to your husband, Robbie. Take this as my resignation", Grey cursed. The shorter man's face fell.

 

“That’s enough, Mr. Grey. My office now, bring your things. Back to work, the rest of you", Mr. Klopp shouted over the hysterical laughter.

 

**

 

“What was that, Jermaine?”, Jürgen asked calmly, though beneath the surface he was fuming.

 

“One of those little bastards did this. I’m blaming Reus or Shaw or Icardi”, Jermaine snapped.

 

“You believe that a group of seventeen year olds had something to do with your wife divorcing you? Think rationally”.

 

“Jürgen, I don’t know what happened. They were talking about it all through the class".

 

“Of course they were, it's everywhere, Jermaine. But I can’t punish them because of two things: you threatened a student and your behaviour towards Robbie. I can’t have that in my school".

 

“What are you going to do about it?”.

 

“Suspend you while I take it up with the board. That’s all I can do”, Jürgen frowned.

 

“That won’t be necessary. I quit, you can have Woj take my classes".

 

“Woj is a receptionist”.

 

“And a trained maths teacher for higher level. I’m sure he can teach them two plus two", Jermaine snorted.

 

“It was a pleasure”, Jürgen shook the other man’s hand.

 

**

 

“He's gone”, Toni announced as he came back from a student council meeting.

 

“Who's taking his class?”, Eric wondered.

 

“Woj".

 

“Is he not a receptionist?”, Vincent scratched his head.

 

“Not anymore”, Toni shrugged.

 

Marco was silent. One down, four to go.


	24. Chapter 24

It was interesting to say the least. This half term was five weeks long, then they were off for a week, then they were back for another month. But that wasn’t Marco’s problem. What was? Stupid Mr. Robert Lewandowski, aka, beautiful blue eyes. Marco knew he was fucked. This year just seemed to be getting worse. So, on the second Monday back, Marco found himself in the teacher’s room on his own, until halfway through lunch, when the beautiful black-haired Pole entered the room.

“Are you okay, Marco?”, Mr. Lewandowski wondered as he took his seat behind his desk.

“Oh yeah, I just needed a break, most of the lads are gone down to the sports hall to play basketball with the second years as part of some weird initiative”, Marco shrugged as he looked at his English exam.

It was the first one he had gotten back. He didn’t know what to make of it. It was good, a solid B, but part of him was so pissed that it wasn’t higher. Was he somebody that wanted to overachieve? Hell yes. It was either that or he didn’t care. A lot of it lately had been not caring. So he expects the rest of them would be shite. But fuck them, Christmas was a time to make mistakes.

“Want to talk?”. Marco looked up, the teacher was grading the final few history papers.

“You’re busy”, Marco pointed out.

“Contrary to popular belief, I can multitask”, Mr. Lewandowski smirked cheekily.

“I should be happy, it’s a B for Christ sake, but I’m not happy”.

“Did you try your best?”.

“You sound like my mother”.

“Your mother is a smart woman”.

Marco snorted at that. He was staring at the 82%, he dreaded to get the other ones back.

“I have your history one, if you want it?”, Mr. Lewandowski was smiling as he held out the white paper with aqua blue lines. Stupid exam paper.

“Better to have my breakdown now than later”, Marco stood up and took the paper.

66%. Holy fuck this is just getting worse. He sat down and he felt the anxiety burn in his stomach. Maybe he would never become that history lecturer. If he couldn’t get a good result here, he wouldn’t get a good enough one in college where he had to get in the top ten percent of the class to get into the PHD programme. Mr. Lewandowski obviously picked up on the anger rolling off of the teenager.

Robert watched him with sad eyes. Through everything that Marco had been through, regarding his father, his medical history and all of the other stuff he had been through… the blonde was such a fighter and it made his heart flutter in his chest.

“Stop thinking like that, Robert. You can’t do anything”.

“He kissed you again, do you remember that”.

Marco watched as the teacher rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

“Close the door, Marco”, Mr. Lewandowski said as he read through the final paper.

Marco was silent and allowed the teacher to work as he closed the door and sat back down. When he watched the teacher put his red pen down, Mr. Lewandowski lifted his head to the other male.

“What have I done now?”, Marco raised an eyebrow.

“Be honest with me?”, the teacher requested.

“I always am”. Marco knew he was treading on thin ice and it was starting to crack beneath him.

“Why did you kiss me?”.

“And here I though you were smart”, Marco snorted.

“I need you to tell the truth”.

“Because I like you, you doughnut”, Marco rolled his eyes.

“Do I ned to tell you how much trouble both of us should be in?”, Mr. Lewandowski whispered.

“I know, but to be perfectly honest, I’d take the risk. You’ve went above and beyond for me, you must have some sort of feeling”.

The teacher was silent for a few moments. He stood up and paced for another few minutes before the bell went. Marco took his bag and went to leave before he was pulled back, his body heated at the way the other male gripped his wrist.

“You can’t tell anybody about this”, the teacher whispered.

They were so close again, if Marco just tipped his head forward, his lips would be on top of the teacher’s. He wanted to, he very nearly did. But Mr. Lewandowski did it first. The kiss was soft and warm, and barely lasted three seconds, best three seconds of Marco’s life.

“Goodbye Marco, I’ll see you tomorrow”.

The smile made Marco’s insides go gooey as he walked away from the older man. Marco headed straight for chemistry.

“Well lads, that speech I gave about the results of these tests not mattering, was half through. Overall, it was good, but it can be so much better. And it will be”, Mr. Vardy announced as he handed back the Christmas tests.

Marco stared at the 57% on the top corner of his page. At least he didn’t fail, but he knew from the harsh intake of breath beside him that Eric’s wasn’t great.

“At least I didn’t fail?”, Eric muttered as he stared at the 42%.

Marco really hated that week of getting the exams back; they did nothing in class and as a result they got more homework, which just left him exhausted. But now it was late Saturday evening and Marco, Eric, Vincent, Luke and Toni had just walked out of the chipper, each of them with a large battered sausage and chips.

“I miss this”, Marco sighed as they sat against the wall.

“Yeah. Have any of you heard from the cops?”, Luke wondered.

“Nope, it’s like we’re in the clear. Mauro is going to be so happy”, Eric laughed.

They ate in silence before they went home. Marco was going back to Eric’s because he practically lived there now. What neither of them were suspecting was Eric’s father, Joe, to be waiting there.

“What hole have you crawled out from this time?”, Eric growled.

“Eric, please. Just because things between your ma and me didn’t work out doesn’t mean I want to see you and George. Where is he?”.

“He and mammy are over in Maggie’s so George can play with Owen. You can speak to me when you become a man and actually pay for your children”, Eric snapped.

“Just go, Joe, come back when you’re a little more sober”, Marco advised.

Joe cursed repeatedly before he staggered out of the house, he slammed the door behind him.

“What did my poor door do to you?”, Eric muttered.

“I though your ma took his keys”.

“She did, he obviously remembers where we keep the spare one”, Eric mumbled as he droppd to the sofa. “This house is fuckin’ freezin’”.

“Light the fire, then – sometimes I think you’re too simple for your own good”.

“I probably am, but you love me anyway”, Eric grinned as he moved to light the fire.

“Think, just four more weeks before we get another break. I think we can last it, don’t you?”, Marco smiled.

“Yeah, then five weeks, then two weeks off, then seven weeks and more exams. Joyful, Mar, thanks for making me realise that”, Eric whined as he laid the sticks in a teepee formation over the burning log.

“I’m actually so glad about the whole milk incident now. Are you a little worried about the whole Paul situation?”.

“Nope, let them come. Luke was right: we have to stand firm and just stick together. If we do that, we will be fine”, Eric shrugged.

“True, I just don’t feel right about something”.

“It could be your mother and Roger, we all know that you hate him”.

“I’m actually indifferent towards him at this stage. He gets on my wick sometimes but for the most part when he’s there, I’m in my room either studying or watching Netflix”, Marco pointed out.

“True. But still, think, a year and a half and we’ll be free of this place”, Eric sighed as he sat back up on the sofa.

“We have to make it through that first, and we have a lot of shit to deal with, Eric. You don’t think Grey is going to figure out it was us?”.

“Be realistic, how could he?”.

Marco shrugged before the blonde beside him flicked on the TV. Maybe things would be better, or maybe they would be worse.


	25. Chapter 25

Granit was still lying in his bed on Thursday morning. He should have left by now, but he couldn’t face it. They had a match today, which meant he would have to be civil with Paul and that was impossible.

 

“Granit, get up. Taulant will drive you. Dashuri? What's wrong?”, His mother asked when she noticed the dark circles under his blotchy red eyes.

 

“Nothing, tell him I’ll be down in a minute”.

 

Granit moved like he was a robot, with stiff arms and joints that couldn’t do anything. He had just sat awake last night, watching the world move by while he was still stuck in the past. It wasn’t healthy. But he didn’t know what to do. But he wasn’t looking forward to being in a car with Taulant. Taulant asked too many questions and his big brother was baying for blood after Granit got the shit kicked out of him. So, Granit smiled when he finished brushing his teeth and walked down the stairs.

 

“About time, get something to eat, we’re leaving in two minutes”, Taulant smiled as he curled his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

 

“Can we go now? I’m not hungry”, Granit muttered as he grabbed his gearbag and headed to the car.

 

“Find out what is wrong with my baby”, Granit’s mother turned to her eldest son, who frowned as he nodded.

 

 

It was a good 5 minute drive from where they lived to where the school was. But Taulant didn’t start the car.

 

“We’re going to be late”, Granit muttered again.

 

Taulant grabbed his head and forced it to look at him, Granit sagged.

 

“You do know when I find out who hit you, the whole world will be going to their funeral because I’ll have made a god out of them. Now, before I drive anywhere, do you want to tell me who did this to you?”, Taulant questioned.

 

Granit couldn’t lie to his older brother, the older brother that had protected him through so much already.

 

“It was Paul, that’s all I’m saying Tau, now can we just go?”.

 

“I will rip his tongue out and make his mother swallow it. Have I mentioned how much I love being a teacher?”, Taulant grinned as he started the car.

 

“Why? All you do is complain about it”.

 

“I can control all of his test results and they aren’t good to begin with. Ha”, Taulant laughed.

 

“You’re savage. Thank you”.

 

“I’m always gonna look after you”.

 

***

 

Luke was exhausted as they neared the bus. As soon as he collapsed into the seat he rested his head against the window, then on Harry's shoulder.

 

“What’s wrong?”, Harry whispered as he wrapped his arms around Luke.

 

“I haven’t been sleeping, every time I close my eyes, all I see is another one of us getting hurt, I just see him standing above us, smirking and laughing. I think I’m going crazy”, Luke had a faraway look in his eye. It worried Harry.

 

“Do you think I’d let him hurt you? You're scared and that’s okay. What we're doing, what we've done, it would make anybody paranoid".

 

“I’m not scared though, Harry. I want him to do it. I want him to do it so it gives me an excuse to beat him within an inch of his life so he knows what real pain is. I want to sink to his level where all he knows is blood and cuts and bruises. I’m afraid of myself because I know what happens inside of my head. I want to do that to Paul and anybody else who hurts us. I want to hurt them", Luke whispered, his voice cracked as he finished his statement. But it was cold and devoid of all emotion.

 

“That’s okay. He’s put us through so much, it doesn’t make you any less of a good person, it makes you human. There’s a monster deep in all of us, letting it free every once in a while, that’s good”, Harry promised before he kissed Luke’s head.

 

The younger man softened in his embrace. He closed his eyes and waited.

 

 

“Paulo, love, what are you doing?”, Mauro sighed as he worked his fingers through Paulo's stringy hair.

 

“Completing my village, what does it look like?”, Paulo rolled his eyes before he pecked the other boy’s cheek.

 

“Whatever keeps you happy, Joya. You better score against these fuckers, understand?”, Mauro’s blue eyes were on fire as he stared into Paulo's mesmerising eyes.

 

This opponent was not like any other, it was the ultimate rival. Worse than any football rivalry. It got dirty. In past games there had been fifteen red cards, two broken legs and a massive brawl. And that was just since Taulant played them in his final year.

 

“Right lads, I will not tolerate any eye gouging, any spitting, leg breaking, scratching or biting, but everything else is fair game. Understand?”, Mr Hazard called.

 

Marco watched the way that Mr. Lewandowski choked on the bottle of water his lips were wrapped around.

 

“Please do not listen to him at the minute. Can we get through this without a lawsuit or a red card?”.

 

“Which is it acceptable to get?”, Eric called.

 

“The lawsuit”, Mr. Lewandowski sighed.

 

Marco smirked before he turned to Granit who was jittering beside him.

 

“What’s wrong?”, Marco wondered.

 

“I told Taulant that it was Paul that beat me up. That's all I told him though", Granit said quickly.

 

“That’s okay, you don’t need to worry about that. As long as he stays out of it, he won’t be a problem", Marco sighed.

 

“He won’t be a problem? What are you going to do, off my fucking brother?”, Granit whispered through clenched teeth.

 

“I mean, don’t tell the others. They’re already on edge, something as small as this could be the catalyst that sets them all rolling. And that’s bad for everybody”.

 

Marco was right, this was one of the toughest terms of the entire year, there was a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in. They were already snowed under with homework and crap like that, the teachers loved to give them revision topics and don’t even get Marco started on the history. They had finished Northern Ireland and now they had started America, but he still had to learn the northern Ireland essays for a test once evey fortnight. It was the biggest pain in his hole.

 

 

When the bus pulled up, they looked at the state of the locker rooms, how had health and safety not shut this place down.

 

“Well lads, I hope all of you had your tetanus”, Mr. Hazard joked as they filed off the bus to collect their bags.

 

Marco and the lads walked to the away changing room. What was the plan? Get them all to for of asbestos poisoning before the march could be played? Because Eric was sure that shit took a while to kill people. But he could be wrong.

 

“Is that a rusty nail sticking out of the seat?”, Vincent grimaced as he pressed his thumb to the discoloured metal.

 

“Do you want to die?”, Eric called.

 

“Not today", Vincent shrugged.

 

Once they were all changed and warmed up, the subs went and sat on the bench while the starting XI got into formation on the pitch. It was a peculiar pattern: three, two, four, two; with Vincent and Harry up front, Kevin, Paulo and Dele behind them, Luke and Paul were the two wing backs playing a little further forward and the back three was the ever solid Jan, Ben and Davidson. Jack was in goal this week.

 

They played a passing game to begin with, and by the twenty minute mark they had over three quarters of the possession, but the other team were just sitting back, doing nothing. Defending with 11 behind the ball, taking the occasional crunch out of the players. Mr. Hazard was going crazy on the touchline, Mr. Lewandowski looked mortified. But finally, thanks to a quick link up between Kevin, Paulo and Harry, the ball was rolled straight through the opposing keeps legs just on 38 minutes. They boys could afford to breathe, they had to win here. This was not a game they could lose, any other game, yes, not this one. Never this one.

 

For a little bit before and after half time, the opposition had a bit more of an attack with a variety of crosses and long balls, but all of them were either snuffed out by the defence or were caught by Jack. Meanwhile, at the other end, Vincent was brought down with a horror tackle that left him rolling around for a solid five minutes, but after the ice sort was applied and the blood wiped away, he was back his feet.

 

“Y'all right?”, Harry called over the free kick.

 

“Yeah, go long or short?”, Vincent wondered.

 

“How about under?”, Harry smirked.

 

Vincent nodded and they got into position. The ball slid right under the defence and straight into the bottom left hand corner. Harry, the ever antagonistic, mockingly bowed. Paulo finished the scoring just before the final whistle blew. And the boys were not looking forward going back to the school covered in dirt and grime, because their was no way they were getting into those showers. No ma’am, they valued their life.

 

“Just, go very heavy on the body spray lads. Good win", Mr. Hazard winked before he bottled off, probably to eat another sugar wand.

 

“How are you feeling?”, Eric turned to Vincent on their way back to the bus. The ice spray had worn off.

 

“Fucking sore. Every time I move, I can feel the scab pop and part of me just wants to pick it off", Vincent admitted.

 

“Well you’re not doing that. I’m sure Mr. Long will let you rest it on another chair in geography”, Eric smiled as he was used as a crutch.

 

“Why are we the only single ones?”, Granit muttered on he way back. He turned to Marco who was thinking about something very important.

 

“Because we are well too busy to start fucking our best friend?”, Marco said plainly.

 

“Trust you to put things so, eloquently”, Granit snorted.

 

“You love me anyway", Marco shrugged.

 

“I sure do bud, if go to the ends of the earth for each and every one of you. Now, who or what are you thinking about?”, Granit wondered. His voice was desperately low.

 

“Grey. I hope he’s being ripped apart but all of this. It’s been the best fun I’ve had in years”.

 

***

 

Jermaine sat in the sitting room of his studio flat. It was all he could afford at the moment and there were no signs of Carol leaving the marital home. If only she knew all the women he’d fucked in their bed. God, she'd burn the house to the ground. But he looked at the large freestanding double white board that he had bought. It had the student ID pictures of the bastards who had ruined his life. And now he just had to plan on how to ruin theirs. And who he could use. Then a name popped into his head: Paul.


	26. Chapter 26

Eric didn’t do anything in school for the next few days. He could see that Marco was shocked and withdrawn for the next week, then he just didn’t come in for two weeks. Eric went over to him everyday with the homework that he would need, and it broke his heart to leave. Eric could see the pain etched into his face and the pain in his voice. He knew that Paul had caused it. Stress and anxiety always brought on Marco’s migraines.

 

But it was Monday the fifth when Marco returned to school. He still wasn’t one hundred percent, but, it was doing his nut in sitting in his bed. He might as well be in pain in school than be at home wallowing.

 

“Good to have you back, buddy”, Luke smiled as he hugged Marco.

 

“Has anything happened?”, Marco asked.

 

“Not really, the usual snide remarks and hacking in training. I think the team is missing your creative flare”, Luke shrugged.

 

Marco laughed before he sluggishly took his books out of his locker. He wasn’t physically able to work, he was just so tired, he just wanted to collapse and go to sleep.

 

“Mr. Fit is looking for you, something about the history essays”, Luke smiled.

 

“Thanks, Luke. I’ll go find him”, Marco shrugged.

 

Marco headed down to Mr. Lewandowski’s room, honestly, he thought that the blue-eyed Pole didn’t like the other teachers, he was never with them.

 

“You wanted to see me?”, Marco asked as he sat down in one of the hard plastic chairs.

 

“Are you okay?”.

 

“Are you asking as a teacher or as the other thing?”, Marco smirked.

 

“The other thing, Marco. Are you okay?”, Mr. Lewandowski wondered.

 

“Nope, I have a jackhammer in the side of my head, but what can you do? You get used to it after a year of constant headaches and migraines two or three times a week”, Marco remarked bitterly.

 

“I care, you know that, right?”. Marco smiled.

 

“Yeah, I know. Now, if you’d excuse me, Robert, I’ve to go see a man about a thing”, Marco chuckled as he stood up.

 

He left the room before he noticed the heat bloom on the older man’s cheeks. He headed back to the lockers where the others were, including Paul.

 

“Oi, you little prick, come to my house again at three in the morning, I will stab you and burn your body”, Marco snapped as he pushed Paul against the wooden lockers.

 

“I didn’t do anything. What are you on, Reus?”.

 

“The pain I’m about to cause you. Come near my house, or their houses, and I will gut you amd fling your body in the Liffy and the cops will never find you”, Marco whispered, a sadistic smirk on his face.

 

“Separate, the two of you”, Mr. Vardy called.

 

“It’s alright, sir, I won’t waste my time with scum like this”, Marco smiled before he turned and walked away.

 

***

 

Karen couldn’t believe she was doing this. She had left George in at Creche half an hour ago and now she was just sitting outside of the Smith house. The engine had long been cut off, she just sat there, imagining that house up in flames, that was probably where Eric got his pyro streak from. She took the water bottle from the passenger seat and drank it down in a few large gulps.

 

Karen slid out of the car, she walked up to the front door where she pounded on the door. She waited for somebody to come, all she saw was the curtains twitch.

 

“Let me in now, Martha. We have shit to discuss”, Karen shouted.

 

The door creaked open.

 

“You may come in, only if you leave that foul language on my porch”.

 

“First of all, it’s a door step; secondly, I swear on my honour”.

 

Karen followed Martha into the pale pink sitting room.

 

“I’m here about your son’s behavior: he has been harassing my son and his friends since the year began. Now, if this doesn’t stop once I leave here, I will call the police. Do you understand?”, Karen growled, though there was a smile on her face.

 

“You will call the police on my son? See, Paul has a different story: I know that it was your boy who beat my son back at Halloween. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all fair game. The lord will chose to do with you as he pleases”.

 

“Seriously? I came here to sort this out like two women, but if you can’t do that, I’ll be leaving”.

 

“You’ll be seeing the police soon, Karen. Your child is a heathen and a sodomite, hopefully his two front teeth won’t get knocked out in prison”, Martha cackled as she slammed the door in Karen’s face.

 

Karen had a vein of protection burning through her being as she headed back to her car, she drove straight to the school. She stormed into the reception area and knocked on the glass that separated them.

 

“What can I do for you?”, Jakub asked.

 

“I don’t care what class Eric Dier is in, I want him, now”. Karen’s voice was shaking as she spoke.

 

“And who are you?”.

 

“I’m his mother, now go get my son, please”.

 

Karen went and collapsed in the chair as she waited. It was a few minutes before Eric appeared in front of her.

 

“Mam? What’s wrong?”, Eric wondered.

 

“Nothing, you just need to come with me”, Karen smiled as she signed the book to say that she had her son.

 

Eric nodded and followed her back to the car. Before he could get in it, Karen pulled him into her embrace. Eric felt something wet in his hair. Only then did he realise that his mam was crying.

 

“We need to go, okay? We’re going to stay with your grandmother for a few days”, Karen whispered.

 

“Mammy, you’re scaring me”, Eric admitted as they broke apart.

 

“Just get in the car, Eric”, Karen said.

 

Eric slid into the car, he could feel his chest heaving and his lungs burning with anxiety.

 

“What’s going on?”, Eric asked.

 

“We just need to leave for a few days. Something is going to happen. I went to see Martha, she said the cops were coming after you. Jesus, Eric, why didn’t you come to me when this all started?”.

 

“So you could make me run away? That’s not how you raised me, you raised me to fight my battles and be loyal. Do you want me to run out on Marco, on Vincent? Is that what you want? Because if it is, I won’t. I won’t leave them to fight my battles”, Eric snapped.

 

“You will do what I tell you to do, I’m not losing you”.

 

“If the cops come and take me, let them try. They have nothing, they have no proof that we attacked Paul. But we have proof that he attacked Granit and Paulo. And we have a plan, so, no, mother. I am not running away from Paul Smith and his wackjob family. Let them come, let them show their hand first. Then, then we do our thing”.

 

“What is our thing, Eric?”.

 

“Get revenge”. Eric smirked.

 

Karen swallowed. She was terrified.

 

The rest of the week passed, and Karen was staring at the door, she jumped at every noise that came. Then, on Friday, there was a knock on her door.


	27. Chapter 27

Karen felt her heart pound in her chest as she leaned against the door frame.

 

“Mrs. Dier? I’m Detective Well, is your son in?”.

 

“Yes, he is. He’s doing his homework, what is this about?”, Karen asked, her voice shook.

 

“We have new evidence in an assault case, we would just like to know what your son was doing on the night of October 31”, Well questioned.

 

“He was with a group of friends, like every Halloween. I’m sorry, I don’t feel comfortable with you speaking to my son at the moment, you can speak to his friends, they will all corroborate that they were here, with me”, Karen smiled as she spoke. Her voice no longer shook, it was loud and steady.

 

“That wasn’t mentioned in the original report. I’ll have to speak to the officers who interviewed your son in November. I’m sorry for any inconvenience”, Well said as he smiled and walked away.

 

Karen let out a shaky breath as he and the other officer got into the unmarked car. Like lightning she turned to face Eric, who was sitting on the stairs.

 

“Why did you lie?”, Eric inquired.

 

“Because I know you did it and you are my son. Tell the lads, I was here. I supervised the entire thing, me and George. Do it now”, Karen ordered as she picked up her toddler and held him close.

 

Eric was silent for a few moments as he typed out a text to into the group chat. He read the replies and his eyes locked with his mother’s.

 

“They said okay”.

 

“Good, now go study for that biology test that you have on Monday”.

 

There was a tense atmosphere in the house, they didn’t mention the cops to each other and that topic of conversation was completely avoided in the group chat. They all had a mountain of homework to do, they didn’t meet up. They didn’t have the time. Plus, they honestly didn't know what to do anymore.

 

Each of them was pretending to be fine, to be this hard bastard that had no feeling but deep inside of them, there was acidic spitting pools of fear that controlled their subconscious. There was a certain degree of trust but at the minute it was wearing thin, none of them knew where to go.

 

It was late February and the mornings were dark, but in that darkness was a light that shone so bright that it almost hurt their eyes as they became adjusted to it. None of them knew what the light was, it was different to each of them. To Marco it was revenge, to James it was hope, to Mauro it was redemption.

 

Mauro really had changed for the worst. He had been overly protective of Paulo at the best of times, but now... he was just plain a tyrant. He didn’t know what else to do and he understood that it wasn’t healthy to try and control every move that Paulo made. But Mauro had to right his wrongs, he had caused this. He was the one that took it too far. And now the others were paying for it. 

 

Marco was still shook up about the incident but he resolved to put it behind him. He knew the next time they came near his house was the last time one of them would have a scar just about the size of a steak knife. And he wasn’t even going to kid himself. He was within an inch of losing everything, and he didn’t know what he could do. He felt cut off from the rest of them, he didn’t understand what was going on with his own head, but he found solace in one thing: Robert.

 

And yes, Mr. Lewandowski had transitioned from that to Robert in a matter of weeks and it was nice. Marco had somebody who didn’t judge him, who cared for him and didn’t want anything. Sure, his friends were great but with Robert it was different, his smile made Marco weep inside. It was just so nice.

 

But they all had things going on, the stresses of school was chipping away at them. All of them were constantly tired and some of them feared the future, they had no idea what the future held. They all weren’t ready for it anyway.


	28. Chapter 28

What are you doing?”, Eric wondered as he nosed through Vincent's hair. 

“Nothing, I’ve just been thinking”, Vincent sighed. 

“Can you two stop being shockingly sweet on the sofa and help me plan the demise of Markka?”, Marco raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re just jealous that you’re alone", Toni laughed. 

So basically, they were all sitting around Marco's kitchen, sipping on mugs of tea as they spoke. 

“Laxative?”, Jack put forward. 

“Put that on the back peddle, we'd have to get close to him to dose his food", James pointed out. 

“Well what do you suggest?”, Jack made a face. 

“In Colombia, actually, we can’t do that here”, James bit his lip as he thought. 

“I mean, he's sent me pictures of myself, he's printed off screenshots and finally he follows me around the place. What can I do?”, Marco coughed, he may have burnt his tongue on the tea. 

“Why don’t we do the same? Get pictures of him, follow him? Do onto others as they do onto you", Paulo said. 

“Pretty sure that’s not what he had in mind, but it might work", Marco agreed. 

“We could burn down his house", Luke shrugged. 

“Stop trying to get us to burn homes to the ground, you little pyro”, Harry muttered. 

“Can we get back to the matter at hand and not kill anybody?”, Marco called. 

“I suppose so, planning murder is so fun though”, Mauro muttered sarcastically. 

They really didn’t achieve anything that weekend, so when Monday rolled around, they were kind of second base behind Markka. There were pictures in Marco’s locked locker, he would like to point out that it was locked… 

“Dude, that shit’s creepy as fuck, but more free chocolate”, Eric grinned as he took the milk tray from the wooden structure. 

“Give me my chocolates, if I’m going to get stalked, you can at least give me my chocolate”, Marco coughed. His throat was like razor blades. 

“This is all just so weird, Marco has a stalker, Paul wants to murder us and has pictures of our homes. This feels like one of those weird teenage programmes”, Toni was laughing. They were acting like this was normal. What part of this was normal? 

“Ah sure, what can you do?”, Marco asked. 

“Call the police and tell them”, Granit muttered, he didn’t think anybody heard him. They wouldn’t like that idea, no they would not. 

“Granit, if we do that, our houses will probably be burned to the ground”, Eric sighed. 

“Still, I’d love to see him get dragged away”, Toni smirked. 

“What would he get arrested for? His family are too religious to do anything dodgy. They apparently have a moral compass”, Marco wondered as he sat there, sipping on his Summer Fruits diluted. 

“Noise complaint? I’m sure Mauro could hack their televisions one day and we could call the cops. Just enough to frighten them would be good”. Luke grinned. 

“That could work. I like how you think, sometimes. Other times you worry me”, Marco said, his thin lips were stretched into a dark smirk. 

“The year is half over, what have we accomplished?”, Harry questioned. 

“We got Jermaine sacked and we’re slowly wearing down Paul and he’ll crack eventually. Markka, we’re kind of just leaving him in the corner with his stalkeriness”, Marco laughed before he glanced at the clock. They’d been here for five hours. 

“Do you really think Jermaine is going to sit in his empty house and not do anything? Like Marco, love, he is a crazy bastard. He’s probably plotting our demise as we speak”. 

“No, he isn’t, you’re too paranoid, Paulo. He lost his job he can get another”. Marco dismissed. 

“That’s why I’ve seen him at the shop when he lives twenty minutes away. I’m telling you Marco, he is planning something. He’ll probably think that Paul will help him, and that’s the link”. 

“When did our lives get so complex? And fucked up”, Luke sighed. 

“You see where we live right, nothing here is ever easy to understand”, Vincent pointed out. 

They stayed in the sitting room until much later in the night until all of them went home. Marco was lying in his bed, an episode of something playing on his laptop when he heard a noise down stairs. He rooted through the drawer beside him, it was usually filled with food and drinks, and a knife. One could never be too careful and by god, was Marco paranoid. Slowly he talked down the stairs, his mother wasn’t due back until tomorrow morning, and it was currently three in the morning, so it couldn’t have been her. He leaned against the sofa and pulled the corner of the curtains away from the magnolia wall of the sitting room. Outside were four figures, each wearing a mask of some sort, they had hammers in their hands. 

“Fuck this”, Marco muttered, he tightened his grip on the knife, He would have no problem use it. 

Quickly he took his phone out of the pocket of his hoodie and he dialled Eric’s number. 

“Dude, the fuck? It’s half three”. 

“They’re outside my fucking house, Eric. There’s four of them, they have hammers. Hammers”, Marco whispered. 

“Whatever you do, don’t do what I think you’re going to do. Just let them scare you, go back up to your room, and watch Netflix. You and I will deal with his tomorrow, okay?”. Eric’s voice was a breathy whisper. 

“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Eric. Go back to bed”, Marco swallowed. 

*** 

Eric had just put down his phone, he looked at his doorway when he heard the floorboards creek. 

“Downstairs, now”, Karen said. 

Eric rolled out of bed and followed his mother down to the kitchen. He stumbled into the too bright room, his vision blurred as his eyes adjusted to the light. 

“Why was Marco on the phone to you this late?”, Karen wondered as she flicked on the kettle. 

“Do you want the truth, or do you want the version that lets you sleep at night?”, Eric asked. 

“Jesus, Eric. What the fuck are you involved in? Are you in danger? Is George? Am I? I don’t know what’s going on in your life anymore, and it scares me. Eric, don’t fall down the rabbit hole that this estate curses people with. Please”, Karen begged. 

“I don’t know mammy. How do you think I fucking feel? My friends are terrified. I’m terrified. Luke has gone loco. Do you know why Marco called? Paul and his friends are outside his house with hammers. Do you know how he must feel? Markka is stalking him and we can’t do anything about it. Who do we go to? The police? They’d laugh in our faces. The school? A slap on the wrist and mediator sessions . Useless. My friends are being torn apart by one stupid person, a person that we can’t escape. Another year and a half mam, we all won’t last that. Mauro will probably go to the Joy for burning down his house. You remember what happened to Granit and Paulo. That's oing to happen to each and every one of us unless we stop it. And there is no way to stop it but scare him half to death. That a The only choice we have. So look at me with the disgust because I know I’m not what you wanted me to be. But this is what I’ve become”, Eric announced as tears scared his blue eyes. 

Karen stood at the kettle, her new had dropped to the floor. She tired to speak but no words came out. It was complete silence as the kettle clicked. 

“Why didn’t you come to me earlier?”. 

“And tell you What? Oh by the way mum, we’ve destroyed somebody's life and made him lose his job? Oh and were being terrified by a group of four people?”. Eric snorted as he scrubbed the tears away. 

“Yes. I would have preferred that than waiting here wondering if you’re the one taht s going to come home bloodied and broken. I’ve had it up to here being constantly worried about you walking through those doors and not coming back. Do you know what that feels Like?”. 

“Yes”, Came Eric’s broken rely.  
“This is serious isn’t it?”. 

“Yeah, it is”. 

“We need to plan something then. I hate Martha and her husband is probably just as twatish. Do they honestly think that I’ll let them hurt and manipulate you and your friends?. Leave it to me Eric, now go back to bed. You’ve school in the morning”, Karen smiled. 

So Eric did just that, except he didn’t sleep.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my last update of this story for a few weeks, I need to just take a step back. I hope you all understand

Jermaine sat in the kitchen of his empty house; his wife had been gone since he quit his job. He knew he wouldn’t get another one with the way he left, so decided not to even look. Instead he took in Higher Level maths grinds. At least those students were smart enough to try. But he had a plan bubbling in the back if his head. He wanted revenge, at the moment that was the sole thing that drove him. So, he did what any intelligent person would do, a code of words that they should follow: ‘my enemy's enemy is my friend’. And luckily for him, he happened to be very good friends with Linton Smith, Paul's father. And he knew that the family had a deep hatred for Marco and his merry old band of friends, and he was not afraid to use them to do his bidding. He was too smart to get his hands dirty. Now he just needed to get something on him... and then it hit him.

 

 

It was nearing the Easter term break. So far, the last few weeks had been productive, and they had got a lot done, but they all stayed away from subjects to do with Paul, he hadn’t done anything to them and Toni was still doing his research, he did have mountains of homework to go through. So, it was the Monday before the Easter break, so basically the start of that test week. That was just great. Marco and Eric opened their lockers and they froze.

 

“Not this shit again", Eric muttered.

 

Dear cunts,

Have a nice life, it won’t be all sweetness and pie for long. We're coming and now we have an even bigger asset. Markka says hello too.

 

“Great, now my fucking stalker is in on it too. When the fuck is this shit going to end?”, Marco growled before he slammed his locker shut.

 

“I’m ending this once and for all. I’m done, Marco, all of you, listen to me, I’m done", Eric shouted. This caused a few other students to turn their head and let their eyes fall on Eric's form.

 

The entire hallway watched as Eric stalked down the corridor and slammed Paul into the lockers.

 

“You end your shit now, you little cunt, or I swear to God I will burn your house down with you and everybody you care about inside. You have one chance to become a nice pleasant fucking person, or that's what’s going to happen to you”, Eric whispered in his ear, and he was deadly serious.

 

The next thing Eric knew, Paul was running down the corridor with tears in his eyes, the fear of his head been put in him. But those that knew Paul knew it wouldn’t last for long and he would probably use it to his own advantage.

 

“I thought we all agreed a non-combative approach?”, Luke muttered.

 

“I say rain fire down on him. He thinks he’s winning”, Marco sighed.

 

“I am completely fine with that. It’s good to be back, boys", Mauro smirked before he sauntered down the corridor.

 

That day was good. Paul stayed away and for once it felt like an old time. They laughed and joked and spoke about meaningless stupid things at lunch. They didn't even go near the subject. They were happy, and they felt safe. But they all knew it wouldn’t stay like this for long. The next day was the beginning of all of their tests before they had their two-week break. They could hold on, they would hold on.

 

So, most of them spent well into the early hours of Tuesday morning study and they felt good about these tests. The ones Tuesday were History and French. French was the dodgy one. Marco could speak it perfectly fine, he could read it with ease enough but for the dear life of him, he couldn’t write it. Eric was the complete opposite though, he could barley string two words together.

 

But the test, first thing after little break, was not what any of them were expecting. No sir. It was full of grammar. History went better though. So much better.

 

But Biology was a different matter. Mr. Vardy took time out of the lesson to lay down a few ground rules.

 

“All of you know, bullying of any type will not be tolerated in this school. If I get a word of it, whoever is involved will regret it. Nobody has the authority to make you feel inferior without your consent. Your religion teachers will also go into further detail about Pastoral Care in the upcoming weeks”.

 

Marco, Eric and Vincent shared a look and Eric sank back into his chair, he shrugged Vincent’s hand off of his shoulder.

 

“Fuck my life boy”, Eric muttered before he inhaled deeply, he sat back, and his back straightened like a poker. Okay Paul… if that’s how you want to play it.

 

“It’ll be grand, he’s still not allowed back to training, remember?”, Marco reminded.

 

“I was thinking more rip his throat out with my fingers”, Eric whispered darkly.

 

“Maybe don’t do that, love”.

 

Eric rolled his eyes before he started to scribble down the notes that came up on the power point.

 

After lunch was different. They walked into religion for the last two classes, and Mr. McClean was sitting at his desk, head in his hands and a mug of tea steaming in front of him.

 

“Lads, I thought you all were past this? Acting like children and roughing each other up in the corridors. Have you forgotten that every inch of this place is monitored by CCTV? Those of you who stood by this morning should be ashamed when you let a certain student push another boy against the lockers and verbally assault him. All of you in this room that stood by, watched, or egged him on, should be ashamed of you. Do any of you have anything to say for yourselves?”.

 

The teacher’s thick voice was met with silence, the only noise that could be heard was from the low hum of the projector. Mr. McClean shook his head before he waved his hand to let them off. They all worked in silence. Even Marco and Eric didn’t try to speak to each other. That’s how badly they knew they fucked up.

 

Silence followed them as they went to go get their books and bags from the top of the lockers for training. They had an important match in the school cup run, they had made it the semi’s already. They needed to be ready for this match on Thursday.

**

 

Eden and Robert had already set the cones out, they watched as the lads jogged from the tarmac to the grass of the field.

 

“Do you think we can win with their fractured mentality?”, Eden turned to peer up at the other coach.

 

“We should. Just keep Paul away from them”. Yes, Robert had found himself on the side of Marco and his friends. How could he not?

 

“I’m not asking what we should, I’m asking what we can. I suppose we’ll just have to wait to see”.

 

q

"I thought he wasn't allowed back?", Luke muttered.

"Just another thing to deal with. We'll work it out", Vincent smirked.

They trained in the freezing weather, they jogged laps of the pitch to warm them up, and for the most part, it was fine. There were a few looks between Paul, Marco, Eric and just about anybody that had anything to do with that friendship group, And Eric really wanted to gouge his eyeballs out with a spoon. He just didn’t know what to do anymore, and it was eating him alive as the year came to a close. It was late March and soon enough they would have two weeks off. They just didn’t know what to do anymore. And all of them felt hopeless.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm posting this now because I feel ready to do that. I am in no way condoning their actions because this is a work of pure unadulterated fiction. Also, the story will now be updated every Saturday(Except today) week. Sorry to keep you on the long rope, but I need the break. I hope you understand.

Marco slipped into the room and he watched Robert’s eyes flick up to him, there was a small smile on his face as he filed the papers.

“What is it?”, Robert asked.

“The essay. Is it just on Korea or do we do the bit leading up to it as well?”, Marco wondered as he rested against the door frame.

“Just Korea”.

In that case, Marco pulled the six page essay from his schoolbag and handed it over to Robert. Their hands met and Marco grinned.

“This was only given to you yesterday”, Robert frowned.

“I don’t sleep anymore. I’m pretty sure I told you that. Anyway, I’ll see you later”, Marco smiled before he turned away.

Marco walked out and left Robert with a small smile on his face. He went back to grading his papers. Marco walked back to his locker, it was a Thursday morning and they had a match later, just after the first two classes, which were French and Biology. Marco hadn’t got a stitch of homework done for either, but he didn’t really care. Marco rolled his eyes when he saw Eric and Vincent up against one another, heads resting on each other’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong with you?”, Marco asked.

“I’m just fucking tired. When is this shit going to end?”, Vincent muttered as he broke away from Eric.

“Oh, I swear to the love fuck Jesus, what have they done now?”, Mauro cursed as he dropped his bag onto the floor.

“You’re not getting involved. You will rip his face off”, Toni muttered from the other side.

“He’s going to find out eventually”, Paulo whispered.

“What has he done, Joya?”.

“Promise not to kill him?”, Paulo wondered.

“No”.

“Fair enough I say. I have a rather mint idea, but it’s dangerous”, Luke said.

“Will somebody tell me what he’s done?”. Mauro demanded.

“He threatened me again. I got this letter through the letter box last night”, Paulo mumbled.

Mauro looked like a bull in a china shop. He was going to rip his head off. Paulo sighed and placed both of his hands on Mauro’s shoulders, and after a short conversation in Spanish which had Toni and James ‘awing’, the fight melted from Mauro. They all turned to Luke.

“What was your plan?”.

“So basically, I was walking to school this morning and I saw like, five drug deals going down, a couple of meth and one of coke. So, what if we plan drugs on his person and get him suspended? And then, we can get into their house, and we shop them for drug possession?”, Luke sounded so happy with plan. The others were a bit terrified.

“That’s too much”, Jack muttered as he buried his head into Aaron’s jumper.

“No, no it’s not. I like it. Just, where do we get the money to buy some weed?”, Marco asked.

“I may know somebody”, Granit said quietly.

“If you can get it without any repercussions, do it. We’re taking this cunt down one way or another”, Eric smirked.

They all agreeded and Granit made the phone call. To be fair, they all knew somebody who could get them what they needed, but Granit knew the best people. They all headed to lunch hall, when James stopped.

“Why don’t we plant it on one of his friends first? Peter, John or Mark?”, James asked.

“Mark. And I have just the idea”, Mauro grinned.

They spent the rest of the day suffering through school. It was a painful day, and French was the worst with Mr. Lloris warning them about their oral that would be after the holiday that was next week. They had four more days and then three the next. They could do it. It would be worth it to come in everyday just to watch Paul’s face. But there was something they didn’t count on.  
===  
Jermaine sat on his phone in the café. He was waiting for somebody, somebody who would help him wreck their lives for good. Soon, he spotted the blonde head of hair duck into the quaint building.

“Mr. Dier. I’m glad you could make it”.  
===  
They spent most of that night doing their homework although each of them was pre-occupied with the thoughts in their mind. What if they got caught? What if this? What if that? It was wrecking their heads as they tried to figure it out. But nothing made sense anymore. They were now entering murky waters, they couldn’t go back if they took that one step forward. But all of them were willing to risk it. So the following morning, they were all exhausted, they didn’t sleep. They didn’t function. But Paulo had the goods, a little baggie of crushed crystal with a slight blue tint. Now you understand why their estate is called ‘Crystal Blue’. It had its wonders and while Granit would have to provide alibies for the next few months for a few of the runners, he would do it. He also managed to get a group of three men go into the house and plant some drugs before they called the guards on a pay phone that smelled like urine. What a fool proof plan it was.

“It’s done”.

“Perfect. Why don’t we go place this in Mark’s bag?”, Paulo grinned as he took the plastic bag.

Paulo was the best magician that they had seen, his slight of hand was amazing. He walked around the long way of the lunch hall, he dropped his phone on the floor beside Mark’s bag, Quickly, Paulo slid the plastic gab out of the larger plastic covering. No prints, no evidence.

“Get away from me”, Mark growled.

“Calm your tits”, Paulo smirked before he returned to the bottom corner of the lunch hall where the others were.

“Here’s the letter, take it and drop it into the office. Thanks to James, there’s no way they can trace it back to us”, Eric said proudly.

Toni the dutiful student council member took the letter and headed to the office where he feigned needing to talk to Mr. Long. He sneakily dropped the letter to the top of the pile in the side of the office before he excused himself.

It wasn’t until the second class that the letter was opened by Kuba. He read it once, twice, three times before he called in Manuel.

“Get Jurgen, now”, Manuel ordered as he picked up the phone. “Hello, Sergeant Healy? This is Manuel Neuer of St. Christopher’s, we seem to have a student in possession of a class B drug”.

“We’ll be up to the school with K-9 units. Please keep this student and his year contained until we arrive. Thank you”.

Manuel grabbed the intercom and he cleared his throat before he pressed the button.

“Would all of fifth year please report to an assembly in the Activities Room. Please bring your bags”.

“What is going on?”, Jurgen asked as he came into the office.

“Somebody said that Mark King brought amphetamines into the school. The police have been notified and they are on their way”, Manuel answered.

“Very well, come with me, pull Mr. Vardy and Alonso from their classes, they need to be their as their year heads. The Board is going to have a field day”, Jurgen muttered. This was going to be a long day.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back to regular weekly uploads now as the story is complete. They will resume from next Saturday following this one.

They were all sitting in the room, its green carpeted floors smelled stale. Marco, Eric and Vincent were all surrounded by Luke, Harry, Toni, James, Mauro, Paulo and Granit. But they could see Paul perfectly. Marco’s heart beat slowly in his chest, it was too low, it was meant to be racing, but his was calm, cool and collected. That was not normal. Then again, what they were doing was not normal. The whole room sat still, their hearts skipped a beat when the three dogs walked into the room and stood beside their handlers. Sergeant Healy appeared, he knew the boys. That was thanks to an unfortunate few months where Marco’s mother went out with him. He was a sound man. But he loved his job. Marco was cold though. He looked over the room, his amber eyes met with Paul’s in a battle of wills, and all Marco did was smirk. That was not normal. Then again, once again, this was not normal. Planting drugs on your school bully was not normal. Then again, neither was turning up at somebody’s house with clubs at half three at night. Slowly, Mr. Klopp waked into the room, as did Mr. Vardy and Alonso.

 

“As your names are read from the book, please go to the available dog and empty your bag”, Mr. Klopp announced.

 

Marco smirked once again as he dropped his gaze to the floor. He reached over and grabbed Eric’s arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Their bond would never be broken. Loyal to the end. Joy until the end.

 

One by one, the boys were called up. Granit was a bit worried about the scent of crystal on him, but he managed to go up and pass the inspection without a problem. Then it was Mark’s turn to walk up. As he tipped the contents of his bag onto the stale green carpet, the drugs dog sat down and barked twice. Marco couldn’t help that vicious, soul-destroying smirk on his face. He squeezed Eric’s hand tightly before he let it fall limp at his side. This marked the beginning of the end. Perfect.

 

“If Marco doesn’t stop smirking, we’re going to have a problem”, Luke whispered as he nosed at the side of Harry’s head.

 

“Probably. But we won this round”. Harry smiled victoriously.

 

A tense silence fell over the room, it was boiling hot in the usually Arctic room. Eric blamed it on the anger that was rolling off of Marco. Marco was too proud for his own good. Eric had to make sure that his mother didn’t find out. She would protect him, but she would never look at him the same way. Karen could never know. Nobody could ever know. That would mean goodbye to any future degree. Toni sat there smugly, a conviction would mean no chance of him getting into law school. But there was no way that this would be put on them.

 

“All of you will stay here while your lockers are searched, and your parents are informed”, Mr. Klopp announced as he walked out. The Board would have a field day.

 

The boys stayed there for the rest of the school day. They only had two more days of school, then a two-week break. They were close to the end. They were nearly there, five more weeks. They could all taste the victory. And if this didn’t break them apart, it would make them stronger.

 

Eric knew that his mother knew that he had something to do with it the second he mentioned Mark’s name. She said nothing. All Karen did was pull her son into a sharp, tight hug. Still, she said nothing. Eric was just thankful to have his mother’s backing. He needed her to make sure that he didn’t spiral too far. He needed his mother; his mother had always steered him in the right direction.

 

“I love you, mammy”, Eric whispered before he pulled away. He reached down and picked George up.

“Just promise me. Promise me that you’ll be safe”. Karen didn’t need to say anything else. Eric just knew as he kissed the light brown hair that circled around his brother’s scalp.

 

**

 

Mauro and Paulo were lying on the younger boy’s bed, Mauro was being used as a pillow. His fingers dragged through Paulo’s thick, silk-like hair.

 

“Do you think we’ve gotten away with it?”, Paulo asked before he turned to look at Mauro.

 

“Yeah. I think we might. But no matter what happens, I’ll be there for you. I fucking love you”, Mauro whispered before he nosed at Paulo’s neck.

 

“I love you too. Is it bad that I don’t feel bad?”, Paulo wondered.

 

“No. I don’t give a fuck, love. Joya, don’t be scared, nothing can happen. We’re in the clear. I have a feeling that there’s something brewing, though. Give me my phone”, Mauro requested.

 

He took his phone and started to scroll through. He was right. The motherlode had happened. Mauro actually felt his heart stop. Had this gone too far?

 

“Zafiro? What’s wrong?”, Paulo questioned as he sat up.

 

“Group call, now”. Mauro had a smirk on his face.

 

Paulo put in the call, soon he had eight little squares on his phone screen. They were all there.

 

“What is it, Mauro?”, Luke asked as he lay back against his pillows.

 

“Listen to this. The house of Mark King was raided by police and a canine unit today at four thirty seven. They found several baggies of a class B drug and thanks to an anonymous tip off, a methamphetamine lab was raided. Currently, all three members of the family are under arrest and are in the Tallaght Garda station. This is all a result of an anonymous tip in St. Christopher’s Vocational”. Mauro read.

 

“Holy fuck”, Was all they could mutter.

 

They were all shocked. Had they gone too far? Or was this just the beginning? This was definitely just the beginning. They still had the greatest plan for Mick, Markka and Paul. Oh, revenge is so fucking sweet. This would be perfect.


	32. Chapter 32

The break couldn’t come soon enough. Marco got all his revision and work done in the first week, so he could enjoy the second week, and so they could plot the downfall of Mick. So, it was the second Wednesday, the boys were all sitting around Marco’s sitting room. Toni had his laptop on his lap as he typed out their suggestions: 1) Destroy Mick’s relationship with Paul, 2) visit his house in the middle of the night with clown masks and throw stones at his window or 3) hack his Facebook account. They couldn’t decide between two and three, so they did the normal thing and flipped a coin for it. Visiting his house had won. Now, now they just needed to find out where he lived. They left that to Toni. It only took the blonde five minutes to find his address and so, they started their plans. Mauro, Luke and Granit would go to various costume shops and buy the ten masks required. They would brandish bats and maybe knock his bins around a bit, but that was it. They also bought a can of green spray paint for any cameras. They had this all planned out. This would work, and then that would leave Markka and Paul for the end. That would be perfect. Little did they know that and old man from their past was also plotting. 

They boys waited until two o’clock in the morning. They all changed into black clothing and pulled on the paper clown masks. April was cold in Dublin. They walked through the streets, knowing that various cameras picked them up. But there was no proof that it was them. If anybody asked they were all Eric’s house. Karen had promised to offer them an alibi, and she didn’t ask any questions. Eric loved his mother. They were all walking in pairs, each of them was focused on what they wanted to do. It was time for the hunted to become the hunters. They reached Mick’s estate around an hour later. They took their hammers from the bag and James took the spray paint. He drew a triskele onto their cement yards as the boys threw their bins around and beat on them on with the hammers. Eric saw a light turn on upstairs and he dropped a few printed pictures of the inhabitants. They didn’t realise how much fun playing people could be. They left and ran once they put the hammers into the bag on Vincent’s back. They ran most of the way, split up and came back together on the green outside of the estate. They all walked back slowly, there was still music playing from a house up the street as the party raged. They all walked inside of the house and Marco took the masks. Down the street, a thick smoky bonfire was spitting from where the drunk teenagers threw glass bottles and cans into the roaring flames. Marco and Eric walked down to the fire, Marco gladly took a bottle of alcopop, Eric took a can of cider. They drank them patiently as they watched the paper masks burn. All Marco could see was the Paul burning in there with him. He understood how disillusioned he had become, but somebody had attacked his family, and nobody attacks his family and gets away with it. Eric turned his head, he saw the reflects of the shining, roaring fire in Marco’s usually calm eyes. He felt safe.

The two weeks came to an end quickly, the boys didn’t speak of that night. Instead, they gave out about going back to school. But when they walked into maths on the Monday back, their heart stopped.

“How the fuck is he back? He threatened us”, Mauro growled as he took his seat.

Standing, at the whiteboard was none other than half cockroach, half human, Jermaine Grey. Eric’s teeth sunk into his lip so hard that it drew blood. He watched as Grey stood up.

“Many of you must be asking how I have another chance here, but it’s quite simple: Mr. Szczesny has decided to return to his previous cleric job, and this late into the year, there was no hope of anybody getting a sub. So, here I am, I’ve done my three weeks of anger management and passed my evaluation. So, please, take your seats so we can begin chapter 11”.

Marco felt a shiver run through him. He fucking hated his life. Eric sighed simply, Luke looked terrified. Mauro looked ready to rip his head off, Paulo just shook his head and boy, Vincent looked ready to run. But they didn’t, they sat there, and they stayed quiet, they still hadn’t processed it. 

It was lunch when they got a chance to speak about it. Of course, Toni had the information, the joys of being on the student council.

“So apparently, he’s passed them all. Mr. Klopp had no choice but to rehire him. It’s sick, and Vards, Mr. Alonso, Mr. Lewandowski, and obviously, cutesy husbands”, Toni said.

“Do you have nicknames for all of the teachers?”, Eric asked with raised eyebrows.

“Basically. None of them want him back, but ultimately there was no choice. We just need to keep an eye on him, he’s planning something, he’s definitely planning something. But we’ll work it out, we always do”, Toni promised before he bit into his sandwich.

“So, are we back to square one?”, Vincent questioned.

“No. We’ve gotten rid of Mark and Mick, who names these kids anyway? We’ve gotten rid of him once, we can get rid of Jermaine again. We need to focus on Markka, then Paul. Paul is endgame, then, once this year is over, we can actually focus on getting into collage, and not getting revenge on worthless people”, Marco said, his eyes darkened as the smirk descended.

“If he’s worthless, why have we wasted an entire year on him?”, Eric asked.

“Because Eric, he fucked with us first, and we fuck with him last. Our family is our family, and nobody takes that from us”. Marco’s voice was filled with venom as he spoke.

Eric muttered something under his breath before Paul, Markka and Mick walked over to where they were sitting in the bottom corner of the lunch hall. Marco looked up, he could see that the attendant, Mr. Long, was getting ready to come down. So, word had spread.

“Watch your back boys, we know where you live, and we know who you love”, Paul whispered.

“Is that supposed to scare us? Paul, I bet you right now, Mark is crying from where we put him”. Luke smirked.

Paul looked horrified as he stopped. He didn’t actually think they had done it, but now things were going to get worse. Bring it on


	33. Chapter 33

When Eric got home, his heart was racing in his chest. This time it felt good. He had Paul right where he wanted him, they were finally winning. However, he did not look forward to seeing his mother’s reaction at telling her that Grey had been reinstated.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with that school?”, Karen shouted as she paced up and down the length of the linoleum covered floor.

“Calm down, mother. They had no choice, they couldn’t find another teacher this late into the year. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure out how to fix it. He’s not going to get away with it, mam. I promise”, Eric sighed as he spoke.

“Still, Eric. If he flew off the handle once, he’ll do it again, and so help me, if he touches you, or even looks in your general direction, I’ll kill him myself”, Karen said. Eric had no doubt in his mind that she would do that.

Eric sighed before he hugged his mother, George toddled along before he joined them. Eric sighed, this was the family his father was missing out on. God knows where he had ended up at this stage, probably his sister’s house, not that Eric wanted anything to do with her. She was a different kettle of fish, she was just different. And not the good type. Eric broke away from his mother before he went and sat back at the kitchen table.

“You know I love you, and I know that Mick’s house was thrashed, and I know that you had something to do with it, but do you know what? I don’t care anymore, they messed with us first, you show them what it means to mess with the family. Just, no jail time, you won’t be a psychologist then”, Karen reminded.

“I won’t. We can cover our tracks”. Eric smiled. Karen didn’t like his answer, but she accepted it. 

The next day, Eric and Marco met up outside of the school. Marco looked worse for wear, and his hand was shaking slightly, the can of Reb Bull looked to be in a slightly precarious position. 

“What’s wrong?”.

“Paranoid. I feel like something is going to happen, which is stupid I know, because something always happens”, Marco said speedily.

“How much caffeine have you had?”, Eric wondered.

“To be honest, I’ve lost count. But, at least I’m awake still”. Marco shrugged.

“And what’s your plan? Stay awake for the rest of your life just in case something happens? It’s not going to work”. Eric just shook his head as they walked towards their lockers.

“I just can’t help it. I’m getting a lot of revision done, though”. Marco sighed. 

“I really don’t believe you. Just, sleep tonight, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”, Eric asked.

“Paul could petrol bomb me house, like”, Marco said sarcastically.

“I somehow, don’t think, they will petrol bomb, your house”, Eric said slowly, Marco slapped him on the side of his head” Plus, all of that caffeine cannot be good for your head. One can, yeah, more than four? That’s dodgy”.

“Everything is dodgy, Eric. Might I remind you where we live? Our entire lives have been one step away from never leaving this god forsaken place, do you honestly think I’m going to let a bit of retribution, get in my way?”, Marco asked.

“I do. You’ve always dived head first into water, not knowing how fucking deep it is. It’s gotten you into more problems than you cared to ever admit. Don’t you dare look at me like that, I’m telling the truth. Marco, you know that although, you’re slightly unstable, we love you. So, don’t burn yourself out in this little vendetta, because in a year from now, we’ll be in the fucking hall of fame”. Eric smirked as they stopped by the wooden structures.

“And I’m the unstable one?”.

“More unstable than the two of us. Then there’s Luke and James and Mauro and then Paulo. They all a little bit, wacko”. Eric chose his word carefully, just to avoid the slap on the head that Mauro usually left. This time he just growled.

“Head’s up, we have a French oral on Monday fortnight”, Toni muttered.

“See, this is why I took Italian. We don’t have an oral until next year, meaning I can learn it over the summer”, Paulo said.

“Please, don’t rub it in, I have like, ten minutes of French to learn, I cannot even say my fucking name right”, Eric muttered.

In the distance he heard one of the passing teachers telling him to watch his language, Eric just shook his head and sighed. The day was boring, the week was boring, hell, even the weekend was as bad as watching paint dry, Marco did nothing. He purposefully made it boring, he just lay in his bed for two days straight, he moved to get food or to go to the toilet. He was stuck in a hole. It wasn’t until late Sunday night, early Monday morning, did he get text from Toni.

Toni: Check Facebook, now.

Marco scrolled through his phone before he dropped it, with clenched teeth he punched the wall beside his bed repeatedly until his knuckles bloodied. This could not be happening. If this was Paul’s idea of a joke, Marco will fucking show him what it’s like to ruin somebody’s world with a simple click. He had done it before, he’d do it again. No problem.


	34. Chapter 34

Marco was silently seething as he walked through the corridors of school. Using his father against him didn’t really bother him now, but the fact that Paul had even thought about it, that made his blood boil. Marco got his books and he didn’t bother to speak to Eric, or Toni, or any of them. He needed somewhere alone so he could think of a way to destroy that insignificant little bastard. He was going to the very deepest pits of whatever sort of prison Marco thought of, and his imagination was very detailed and honestly, it scared Marco some of the time. His hand shook with the rage as he thought. Marco was so wrapped up in his own head, he didn’t even notice when Robert walked into the room, but when his teacher sat across from him, he could see the worry etched into his beautiful face. Marco couldn’t help with the smile that bloomed.

“What’s wrong?”, Robert asked.

Marco didn’t say anything, he just showed Robert the Facebook post, and although no names were mentioned, he knew the picture was of his good for nothing sperm donor. And there was only one way they would have got the information.

“How long as this been going on?”.

“The whole year. Don’t ask me what we’ve done, because you do not want to know. I need your help though”, Marco requested.

“Whatever you need”.

“Jermaine gave this to him, only the teachers knew that my dad wasn’t allowed near me, you know, after the threats and stuff. So, I need you to get him sacked again, or I’ll do it myself and he’ll find himself winding up in a prison cell somewhere in Mountjoy”, Marco said.

A choked sound left Robert’s parted lips. Marco breathed as he waited for the response. His mind was working too fast, and he could feel the edges of his reality fray and crack as they descended into pain and darkness. Not to-fucking-day. Marco could see the way Robert’s face creased as he thought.

“Think of it, a year and a half, we’re free of this shithole and we can go somewhere else. Galway is looking for teaching staff”, Marco said.

“You’ve thought about this”.

“You haven’t?”, Marco quipped, with a quick upturn of his mouth.

“Oh, I have. We’ll get there, and I’ll make sure you, and Eric and Vincent and all of you, get through it. I don’t care what you do Marco, if you stay safe, I don’t care. You are what I care about”, Robert whispered as he reached over the desk to place a firm but gentle kiss to Marco’s lips.

Marco smiled between them before he returned the kiss quickly and heatedly. They broke apart with a gasp of air, both happy and content with the warmness in their stomachs.

“See you around, Robert”, Marco said with a smile before he left.

He walked down to the lunch hall and took his seat between Luke and Eric. None of them said anything, the whole room descended into silence, apart from the hushed whispers. Marco shook his head before he stood up. He was going to use this.

“By now, most of you would have seen the picture of my father pissed out of his brains. Some of you might think it’s funny, some of you will say it’s a disgrace. But what the photo doesn’t tell you, is the eleven years of emotional abuse both me and my mother suffered as a result of those naggins or those cans. Did you know that we have a restraining order against him because he threatened to kill both of us? So, to the motherfucking dickhead, cuntfaced wanker who shared that, and I know who you are, try looking at the state of your own family before you try to come at mine”.

The silence was deafening as Marco sat back down, he looked over to the door and saw Mr. Long and Mr. Vardy standing at the door, their eyes were glued onto Paul’s dwindling friend group. And Marco had the perfect idea about how to get at Markka. Revenge is so sweet.

“You didn’t have to do that”, Eric whispered.

“Fuck it, it’s done”. Marco shrugged.

Marco slugged through the day, anytime he saw Markka, he would walk over to him and smile, ask him how he was and so on. Markka was flattered, and soon, he began to follow Marco around again, in the days that past he moved away from Paul, and that meant the poor boy was left on his own. Marco thrived on it. They had three weeks left of school, and Markka had gone back to his old friend group, and Marco still spoke to him, helped him with his English homework, and he loved how it made Paul snarl with envy. The king’s temple had tumbled and there was a new person sitting on his throne. Marco was the king. During football practice, he noticed how Paul was always left on the bench or was forced to do extra push-ups or runs. Marco knew he could thank Mr. Hazard for most of it, boy did the little guy hate Paul. But Robert was there too, smiles and witty jokes to crack through the tension. It all worked great. Now, they just needed an end-game.

“What should be do?”, Eric asked as he sat on his bed beside Marco on the Thursday evening.

“I suppose murder is out of the question?”, Marco wondered.

“Yes”.

“Are you taking suggestions?”, Karen questioned as she leaned against the door.

“Always do from you”. Marco smiled.

“What’s the one thing that Paul hates, apart from you?”, Karen said.

“Gay people. I’m pretty sure that’s one of the main reasons he hates us all”, Eric answered.

“Then he’s more than likely closeted. His family would disown him if there was even a hint that he liked fellas. Use that. You have a few weeks, because no more revenge in sixth year”, Karen ordered.

“Karen, I love you”, Eric declared.

“Happy to help boys”.

Once Karen left, Marco and Eric texted the others in their group chat and began to find ways to end Paul. All the while, a certain black-haired teacher was working on a plan of his own.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the very end, and I promised you all a blaze of glory for our boys. Here it is. As always, I hoped you enjoyed this story, I have loved writing it. And for those who you were sad it didn't reflect more on Robert's and Marco's relationship, it was never meant to be like that. It was a story of friendship and revenge against those who tried to hurt your family, because family isn't just blood, it's the people who care for you, who love you for who you are and they don't try to change you. So thank you all for the comments, especially you, Mariothellama, you have been the constant in this story with your beautiful comments. I hope you enjoy the end of it.

With a little over two weeks of school left, Marco began to put his, well, Karen’s plan into action. He began compiling information, and he felt the emotions creep over him. He was wondering if it was ever going to end. Soon though, he found something. An old friend of Paul’s who moved away to somewhere down south, probably Cork. All Marco had to do was message him. But he didn’t know how. So, he did the best thing, direct message on Instagram and he poured his heart out. The boy was all too happy to help, he apparently hated Paul too after the unsavoury events that had occurred after the rejection. Marco found it laughable, this would end Paul’s social life, force them out of the school and far away for good. He called Eric.

“I have it”, Marco said.

“Have what? It’s like one in the morning Mar”, Eric complained, his voice sleep hoarse and dry.

“I’m going to send you the message, I’ve deleted all of my responses, I need you to print it. I’ll send it to Toni, so he can work his tech magic. We finally have him, Eric. We’ve won”, Marco announced.

“And it will still be there in the morning. I love you, but go to fucking sleep”, Eric muttered before he hung up.

Marco formulated a new plan. He decided he would just go to Paul the following morning and they would come to some sort of agreement. That or Marco would end him. For the rest of the night, Marco tossed and turned, too excited to sleep, no nervous to do nothing else. He dressed himself the following morning and grabbed a mug of coffee before he met with Eric and Vincent.

“You need to stop waking me up at obscene hours”, Eric muttered.

“Sorry. But did you read it? It’s everything we’ve needed to get rid of him. He’s finished”, Marco reminded.

“I’m aware, but I like your second idea of trying to talk to him first. Show a bit of class to him, if he doesn’t accept it, fuck him. Ruin him”. Eric smirked.

Vincent shook his head, he loved these lads, but they were too invested in this shit. There lives revolved around ensnaring Paul, they just wanted to see him face down in the dirt, begging and pleading. They could have it all, sometimes, Vincent knew they could quite possible rule the world if they fell down that rabbit hole. He had seen the way they had begun the systematic disintegration of Paul’s circle of friends. They were nearing the end of their journey, and today could prove to be the end of it. It would be the end of it, one way or another. When they went in, the others were already waiting at the lockers, and Paul was in his usual spot at his locker. Marco and Eric quietly explained their thought processes, and Paulo clapped his hands together like an excited toddler.

“This is amazing. Let’s go”, Paulo said, a wide grin on his face.

Marco couldn’t argue. He closed his locker, never bothering to lock it because nobody would bother to rob him. Or anybody in this godforsaken school. He took a few steps on the clacking corridor, everything seemed to move in slow motion. He stopped in front of Paul, his deep hazel eyes staring to dirty blue. 

“You have two choices: Be disowned by your family thanks to what Neal had said, or we end this right now. You finish your thing, we finish ours. We don’t look at one another, we don’t speak. You can find somebody else to torment, I don’t care. Do you agree?”, Marco asked as he stared down at Paul. He was backed up by numerous looming figures, standing over Paul as though they were gods.

The dark brown-haired boy swallowed sharply before he nodded. Tears burned at his eyes, harsh and blurring his world. He felt failure, he had lost. Paul looked up at Marco.

“Is that the only copy?”, Paul asked.

“Yes”. Marco lied. But by this time, nobody else could tell.

“Delete it, and we have a deal”, Paul said.

Marco nodded and deleted the message from his phone. Paul let out a sigh before he turned and walked away. Marco walked away, he walked through the group that had split down the middle, a devious smirk was on his face. They had won. Marco had won. Marco could see the fear in Paul’s eyes, it danced through him like the feeling of Winter by Vivaldi. Now, he just had to wait for Robert to get rid of Jermaine.

 

Robert sat in the staff room, he looked at Robbie and Shane, and Jamie and Hugo. If he could turn them against Jermaine, he could get him out for good.

“How do you feel about working with Grey again?”, Robert asked.

They all snorted.

“He’s a dickhead. Simplest way to put it. You know, I heard he was good friends with Mark’s family. It makes you wonder about all the times he’d come into the school, jittery and tired. He was always shaking in the maths meetings”, Robbie said.

“Why didn’t you say something? We could have had him drugs tested before he came back. He’s as poisonous as Aconite”, Jamie muttered.

“We can all tell you’re a biology teacher”, Hugo chuckled.

“Either way, I hope he doesn’t come back. We have one week of teaching left, I just can’t wait to get away from this place”, Hugo muttered.

“Wouldn’t it be great if we could make sure he never came back?”, Jamie said.

“What do you plan on doing?”, Robert asked. He liked the way this conversation was going.

“We all have demons, and his is a little tipple of whiskey in his coffee cup. If we planted something, he’d never teach again”. Jamie smirked.

“I mean, we’ve all heard the homophobic and racist remarks. It would be nice to get rid of him, it’s probably better for the students too”. It seemed Hugo agreed.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes”. Robbie got up and left them.

Of course, they knew he was going down to the off-licence down the street from the school. He came back seven minutes later, apparently there wasn’t that big of a queue at ten past eight in the morning. Robbie arrived just before Jermaine.

“Jermaine, can I talk to you about the summer exam?”, Robbie asked as he slipped the baby of powers over to Shane.

Jermaine jerked his head with a pained sigh. He left his coffee mug in the table and walked to Robbie’s room. Shane wasted no time, he pored out some of the coffee at the sink, the others watched, but for the moment they were the only ones in there. The metal cap of the baby with a snap and the liquid bubbled as it poured into the black bitter coffee. The scent was pungent, strong fiery scent of the powers mixed with the coffee. But it was there.

“Go get Jurgen or Manu”, Shane said.

 

Robert went to get both for good measure.

“What is it?”, Manu asked.

“Can you smell that?”, Robert asked. He was fighting the smirk.

The scent was clear, and both men cursed. They demanded to know where Jermaine was, and when they told him, Jurgen stormed to Robbie’s classroom.

“I have given you chance after chance to redeem yourself, and you repay me by endangering the lives of my students my drinking?”, Jurgen all but screamed.

“What?”.

This garnered the attention of the students, and Jurgen recognised them instantly, Marco and his friends. He didn’t bother to tell them to leave, they would hear about it eventually.

“Get out, I don’t care about your contract or anything else. Take your things and leave this premise. Go back to your house, the board will be in touch”, Jurgen said.

Grey cursed them all in a flurry of hatred before he stormed out. The five teachers shared a look with one another, the good of the school. This would never be spoken about again. This never happened. When Robert walked out, he gave a subtle wink to Marco who nodded.

It was over. They had won, and just in time for the exams too.

**Author's Note:**

> To Mariothellama, I gift this to you too, for all of your kind words and all of your helpful thoughts on this work and the others. I'm grateful to you.
> 
> I hope you both enjoy this and everybody else too.


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